Bound by Garlands of Her Own
by Carrie Swinton
Summary: Sequel of Bright Star. Hermione Granger, the best friend of Lacie Malfoy, thought that she had seen the dark side of Hogwarts in first year. As she returns for her second year, a malevolent force seems to be attacking Muggleborns, and for once it isn't Draco Malfoy. With Lacie's absence, Draco is caught between his sister, his House and the beliefs he had grown up with. AU of CoS.
1. And All Thy Heart Lies Open Unto Me

**Bound by Garlands of Her Own**

From the poem: " _If By Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain'd"_

* * *

 **Prologue: And All Thy Heart Lies Open Unto Me**

* * *

" _ **So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip  
Into my bosom and be lost in me"**_

 **Alfred Lord Tennyson from** _ **'The Princess'.**_

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer to JK Rowling**_

* * *

 _Friday 24_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dearest Hermione,

After weeks and weeks of nagging, Father has finally permitted for you to stay at the Manor for the rest of the next weekend, and possibly even longer, (he has allowed Draco's troll friends to come without question, sadly, and I am not putting up with it any longer _._ _)_ Mother is delighted to have another girl in the house as it's gotten a little rowdy, having to listen to boys all day. I did not know that Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had so much to even discuss, did you know that they are worse than us in History of Magic? (Of course, you would always pay more attention to Professor Binns than me, which is confusing more than anything), and even Nott came over. He and Draco had a nice long, private chat in the Manor's maze (wait until you see the maze, Hermione, it is beautiful! I can imagine the hours we will spend in there!) And he refused to tell me about it. It's all right because there are plenty of things that we talk about that he does not know.

There is so much to talk about, so I hope your parents allow you to go to the Manor as I do miss you terribly. I have told Adelais not to leave your side for the duration of the holiday, as you do not have an owl, and we simply must keep in touch. Do not fret about her, as long as you let her out every day she will be fine. I will be fine too. I will use my Mother's owl, Athena, to send my post. I also await your reply and I have told Adelais that you _must_ write at least half a roll of parchment in response if you cannot go. I want a real reason, none of this... you need to do homework (although, you have probably done it all) or something like that. I want a really good excuse for getting out of coming to the Manor. I've begged (and Malfoys do not beg, as you are fully aware) for too long.

Your best friend,

Lacie.

PS. If you do have homework, the Manor has an extensive library full of information for the homework. I hope that tips the scales on your decision, which I eagerly await.

* * *

 _Saturday 25_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Hi Hermione!

I hope you've not overworked yourself too much doing Snape's homework. Now that I think of it, how much have you done? I've done 6 inches and I think that's alright but if you've done twelve rolls of parchment then I'll have to find a way to add more. You know Snape, he already hates my guts so he'll barely look at your essay and then he'll flip when he sees what I've done. Fred and George are no help whatsoever, as they don't really care for Potions, or Snape for that matter, and Percy is holed up in his room. He's probably revising, or something like that. He probably wants to take seventh-year exams a year early and prove he's the better Weasley. Even Bill couldn't do that and Percy and Bill have had a friendly rivalry since they were born. I don't see why Percy bothers, though. Bill trumps him every time.

I've been so preoccupied with writing about Snape's homework (he is a nasty git though, setting that work over the holidays. What happened to the fun?) I almost forgot to ask – would you like to come to the Burrow over the course of the next week? Harry's coming too. Well, I've tried to contact him all summer, and I've gotten no reply which makes no sense since he has an owl of his own and could even start writing to me when Errol returned (has the same happened to you? Wait, you don't have an owl, ignore that, well, have you seen Hedwig at all?). I'm a little concerned for him. If I don't get a reply by Wednesday next week, I'm secretly going to save him with Fred and George. I'll spare you the details since Errol may get intercepted and you'll go ballistic when you find out.

Yours sincerely,

Ron.

* * *

 _Saturday 25_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear Lacerta,

I was wondering if you like to stay at the Burrow for a few days during the course of next week. I already invited Hermione and Harry will be there.

Hope you can come,

Ron.

* * *

 _Sunday 26_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear _Ron_ ,

Was that even an invitation?

Malfoy.

* * *

 _Sunday 26_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear Ron,

I do apologise but my rude brother intercepted my post and responded to the letter and sent it back before I even had a chance to read your letter, or rather, note. He told me what he wrote to you, and I can hardly disagree with him seeing as the note had no manners whatsoever and was hardly an invitation.

However, I cannot stay, unfortunately, as much fun as it would sound. I have invited Hermione over to the Manor for next weekend and I hope to have her over for longer. I apologise on her behalf as well.

Since you were not so polite to ask, I have had a good holiday. Mother recently took me Germany for a day trip in Demeter's Gardens. It is so beautiful! The Herbology greenhouses cannot compare to those gardens. Legend has it, that the Greek goddess Demeter pours her love of nature into these gardens each summer because she's reunited with her daughter Persephone. It is a beautiful story that you will probably not appreciate but I thought I ought to educate you in some respect, seeing as you will probably be too busy doing Merlin knows what with your time off. I do not even know why I am warranting you with such a detailed response to your invitation. It is probably because I have barely spoken to Hermione, since she has not got an owl, and Harry will not write back. It is probably because of those Muggles he lives with. I bet they do not let him write to us and they take away all our letters to him.

I will probably see you and him on the Hogwarts Express,

Lacerta.

PS. Could you give Athena some bacon? She is one of those owls that expect to be rewarded once she has done a job. Did you really expect any less from a Malfoy owl?

* * *

 _Monday 27_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Malfoy,

Stay out of my business.

Weasley.

* * *

 _Monday 27_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Weasley,

Stop writing to my sister and I might consider it.

Malfoy.

* * *

 _Monday 27_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear Ron,

I'm sorry! I can't go to the Burrow although it sounds like a brilliant place. I am thankful for your generous invitation. I hope I can go some other time. I hope you've had a good holiday too but I suppose you have, because Snape asked for no less than a foot. I also don't appreciate your little jibe, Ronald, since I have only done three rolls of parchment, not twelve. You better find a way to finish that essay, since that alone with give Snape enough reason to hate you.

I don't think that it's wrong with Percy wanting to take seventh-year a year early. I wonder if you an actually do that since that would be a good idea. Ask him if it's possible to do so, because I may try that too.

Additionally, I want you to know that I disagree fully with your rescue mission with Fred and George. You should tell your parents the problem and maybe they'll help you. I mean, we're not supposed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, especially in front of Muggles and Harry lives with Muggles, remember? That reminds me, it better not involve magic, Ronald, I'm not joking! It's illegal and it will get you expelled! We already pushed it enough when we went after the Philosopher's Stone a few months ago and we could have been expelled then. Please, Ron, think about what you're going to do.

Your concerned friend,

Hermione.

* * *

 _Monday 27_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Lacie,

I would love to come to the Manor, since you asked so politely and it sounds so lovely at the Manor. (However, I do feel a little anxious about coming. Does your father truly not mind me being there?) I cannot wait until I see the library at the Manor. I've still got a conclusion to do on my History of Magic homework before I finish it but I haven't got many points to conclude it with. I also find the maze interesting. I cannot wait.

I hope that Draco and his Neanderthal friends aren't always around us when I'm there though. You know that I don't like them that much.

Thank you for letting me uses Adelais. I am really grateful since I can't send you letters via Muggle post. I've been trying to get to Harry but no avail. I suppose Harry thinks that I'm ignoring him and won't send me any letters. Ron told me that Harry hasn't spoken to him either, which is strange, since I thought that they would be writing to each other each day, since...well, you know... but I suppose not. Maybe it's the Muggles that Harry lives with. My parents are a little more open to owl post. At first they flinched when they saw Adelais and then Errol (Ron's owl) came and they've gotten used to having Adelais around.

See you next week!

Hermione.

* * *

 _Tuesday 28_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Granger,

I heard that you will be coming to the Manor this coming Friday and be warned. I will not hold back.

Malfoy.

* * *

 _Tuesday 28_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Malfoy,

I am not threatened by your childish jibes.

Bring it on, I dare you.

Granger.

* * *

 _Friday 31_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear Harry,

I'm worried. I've sent you letters by owl post but you haven't replied. Is Hedwig alright? I suppose she could be ill, I just thought that the Muggles you live with would stop you from using your owl or something. I've been using Muggle post to try and contact you and I know it takes forever but, I'm sure that you've gotten at least one of my letters. Lacie lent me her owl so that this letter would be more efficient.

Ron told me of a ridiculous rescue mission he's planning. I told him to leave it to adults and he probably would have but Fred and George are involved and you know the twins. They would never say no to a challenge. I'm worried for Ron too. He could get expelled! You need to write to him and tell him that you're fine and he'll stop thinking about doing something that would mean expulsion. I'm sure you're fine. I'm just being too anxious.

Oh, and Happy Birthday!

Love,

Hermione.

PS. I'll be at Malfoy Manor from later today until the end of the weekend. If you write, I'll be there.

* * *

 _Friday 31_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Harry,

Mate, you haven't replied to ANY of my letters. It's worrying! Fred and George reckon that we pay you a little visit and see what's going on (and rescue you). If you don't reply in a week's time, we're coming.

That'll be your birthday present.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Ron.

PS. Did you hear? Hermione's going to Malfoy Manor! I find that hilarious. I hope she finds a way to get Malfoy in an embarrassing situation so that we can talk about it when he starts to annoy us.

* * *

 _Friday 31_ _th_ _July, 1992_

Dear Harry,

Everyone is worried about you. Including me! I hear that Ron has invited you to the Burrow (he invited me, but, I hear – well you know how much it would not suit me) and I hope you have fun there. Hermione is coming to the Manor and I cannot wait to see her later today. You know, the way that you cannot wait to see Ron.

I do not know why I am writing to you, actually as you will most likely not write back. It is not just me saying that. Hermione and Ron have written to me asking about your owl. Of course, you are probably enjoying life with the Muggles and you want the peace. It would help for you to write back to them before they send me more frantic messages.

Lacie.

PS. Happy Birthday, Harry! I have not gotten your present yet. Wait until the first of September. It will be ready then!

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for anyone who read the old version of this story and was keen on it before I removed it to rewrite it. Thank you for new readers, and readers who have just finished Bright Star. If you haven't read Bright Star yet and you have no idea what is going on so far, I suggest reading the AU of PS first as this is the continuation of that story before I upload the first (second) chapter of this story._

 _Quick recap though: Lacerta Malfoy is the twin sister of Draco Malfoy who was Sorted into Gryffindor and becomes the unintentional fourth wheel in the Golden Trio, this changes the dynamics of the Golden Trio and Draco has to deal with his sisters' slowly changing values amongst other things._

 _I hope that this version of the story is as well received as the old one, as I added more and made the chapters shorter for easier reading and added a lot more POVs and my fave – (cute?) pre-teen Dramione moments. That's all to come, oh, and because I spent a lot of my time on this I will be updating more frequently so you it will be back to where it was before quite soon… if that makes sense._

 _Love always,_

 _CS._


	2. Crater of European Confusion

**Chapter One: Crater of European Confusion**

* * *

 _ **"Beautiful city, the centre and crater of European confusion,  
O you with your passionate shriek for the rights of an equal  
humanity,  
How often your Re-volution has proven but E-volution  
Roll'd again back on itself in the tides of a civic insanity!"**_

 **Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'Beautiful City'**

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer to JK Rowling**_

* * *

"Your house is so beautiful," Hermione managed to say after a while.

Beautiful was an understatement, in Hermione's opinion. It was stunning. Everything was so otherworldly.

Malfoy Manor was a mansion, settled in a remote area of Wiltshire, where no one could admire its spectacular architecture. Hermione felt sad for the locals for not having the privilege of ever seeing it, most likely because there was a concealment charm surrounding the grounds. The taxi driver that had dropped Hermione off a field away from the front gates seemed confused, and questioned her decision to travel to an abandoned house, suitcase in tow.

"It is nothing," Lacie shrugged.

Hermione scoffed. Compared to her modest Georgian house in the suburbs this house was definitely not _nothing_. It was a _something_ with a resounding noise. Lacie led her into the house and Hermione felt like dropping her jaw on the floor once again. If she had thought that the outside was lovely then there wasn't a way that she could describe the inside. Wood and marble seemed to interweave seamlessly around her. Hermione span around, again and again whilst taking in the architecture several times.

"When you have stopped gawping," Lacie said, pulling Hermione out of her daydream, "I will take your luggage upstairs."

"No need for that Lacerta," a voice said to the right of them. A man, who was a taller and older version of his son, emerged from the shadows. Hermione remembered this as being Lacie's father. He clicked his fingers. "Dobby!"

Something rather small and dirty appeared in front of them and Hermione almost jumped at the loud crack that came with the appearance.

"Y-Yes, Master?"

Hermione stared from the creature to Mr Malfoy and back in astonishment.

"Take Miss Granger's suitcase to Lacerta's room, now," Mr Malfoy said in a bored voice.

The creature scampered over to Hermione, its brown eyes bulging from their sockets in sadness. Hermione took a step back. Hermione didn't want to hand over her bag to it. It wasn't that it was dirty and it would dirty her bag, she just felt sorry for the poor thing that she couldn't bear to give her bag to carry. Hermione also didn't know if the creature was able to carry such a heavy load.

"I'll do it myself," Hermione said to Mr Malfoy, "If you don't mind."

Lacie elbowed her, hard, in the shoulder and gave her a desperate look. Hermione didn't know what Lacie was trying to convey to her. Lacie winced for a moment and said turned to her father.

"I am sorry, Father, I will - ..."

"It is alright, show Miss Granger to your room, I will be in the garden with your mother."

He left in a swirl of dark green robes. Lacie peeked around the door in which Mr Malfoy had just gone through. She stayed there for a moment before returning to Hermione.

"Are you _mad?_ " she asked as she neared Hermione.

"Mad?"

Lacie nodded fervently and then pulled Hermione towards the staircase. Hermione was confused by what she had meant but she pulled Hermione up two flights of stairs and across a long corridor not caring that Hermione was lugging her suitcase behind her.

"Yes, mad," Lacie said, the side of her mouth twitched, "At least try and adapt to the house you are in, we have others to do our lifting and chores, do not be the hero."

"I - ..."

"I know, Dobby looked weak and you could not help it," Lacie said shamefacedly, "Dobby has been with the family for a while so he is rather used to fetching and carrying, it is what he is employed to do."

"Oh, so he's a servant?"

Lacie looked at the floor. She stopped walking. Hermione touched her arm and shook it slightly. "Lacie?"

Lacie looked up, "I suppose we pay him in lodging and food..."

"He's a _slave?_ " Hermione asked incredulously.

"I know what it looks like, Hermione - ..."

"How can you accept something like that?" Hermione whispered.

Lacie looked away from her, her cheeks flaming up and then she turned back to Hermione and her eyes looked slightly wetter, "I know, it's bad, but _what_ can I do? I can't tell Father to give him wages because I know he would not! All I can do it do more things myself instead of having Dobby doing it, and making Draco stop adding to his list of punishments when Dobby does something wrong, but..."

"But?" Hermione prompted.

"Dobby is a house-elf, and in their core they enjoy working for us," Lacie said quietly. "Obeying orders is what gives them joy."

Hermione wanted to say something but it wasn't the time. She was also overstepping the mark. This was obviously not something she wholly agreed with but she was being rude and making Lacie uncomfortable about it, despite being in Lacie's house. She needed to control her emotions and realise that this was a Wizarding house and they did things differently. It didn't matter how much Hermione disliked it, it was because it was a different lifestyle to what Hermione was used to. It was just, Hermione couldn't easily forget the look in Dobby's eyes, his inner despair as if he was desperate to not to be in the circumstances that he was. There was no joy there.

Hermione forced a smile, "I suppose I'll have to get used to having someone do something for me."

Lacie perked up immediately and changed the subject, "Wait until you see your room."

Hermione paled, "Lacie, I could just stay in your room, you didn't - ..."

Lacie tutted as she pulled and said, "You are not imposing, I am only being a good hostess."

"But - ..."

"Draco and I have the entire West Wing, and we have more than enough room for you to have your own room. We both have four rooms for ourselves and any friends that stay over, and we share the tower."

"You have _four_ rooms?" Hermione asked with surprise. In her own house she only had one small room that was inhabited mainly by her vast collection of books. Lacie nodded as if was normal to have four rooms and a tower to herself. Lacie opened the door slightly and closed the door.

"I did not know your favourite colour was purple."

Hermione's mouth fell open, "H-How did...?"

Lacie opened the door to reveal a room with varying shades of purple in it. The walls went from a pale lilac to a deep indigo and the furniture matched the new colour scheme. Hermione had to forcibly close her mouth so that she wouldn't catch flies.

"It is the same furniture, in essence, but it changes appearance and colour to suit a guest at that particular time," Lacie answered. "I left for Hogwarts thinking that I liked pale blue, but it turns out that I am a fan of scarlet."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"What? Draco's room is green!"

Hermione shook her head and decided not to get into the middle of their sibling rivalry that was exacerbated by the fact that they were in different houses. Hermione pulled her suitcase into the explosion of purple and delicately touched something to make sure that it was actually there. She couldn't believe that something could change based on how she personally wanted it.

She decided to test the room, and suddenly wanted everything to be bright orange. She closed her eyes and opened her eyes. Purple. Hermione snickered. Of course, Lacie knew that her favourite colour was purple and had someone cast an enchantment. Impressive. Not impressive enough.

Then in the corner of her eye, she saw a splodge of orange. When she turned to inspect it, it darted across creating a long line of fiery orange. Hermione followed it as it tainted everything with its colour and she was horrified to see it there. She hadn't meant to send orange spirals around her room.

"You have to admit you were wrong to change it back," Lacie said, crossing her arms with a smug expression.

" _I_ have to _what_?"

"It is a Malfoy House, so Malfoy rules apply," Lacie sighed, "If only we were not so proud."

"Er… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have challenged you," Hermione said slowly, not knowing exactly what she was supposed to do. The orange stopped moving and changing colours in its path. It seemed to dissolve into the walls and furniture to show the previous colour scheme.

"Now thank it."

"Er…Thank you."

Lacie smiled, "Now that you have apologised for offending my walls…"

"Do you talk to your walls at home _too_?" Hermione asked incredulously, spinning around to face her.

Lacie laughed, " _No,_ I am not completely crazy."

Hermione chuckled. She didn't quite believe that. She turned back and sighed. "Your house is amazing."

"I would rather come and see your house," Lacie said, "This is just…"

"Nothing. I know," Hermione finished for her in an unbelieving tone.

x-x-x-x-x

"Draco, could you please pass the salt?" Lacie said diagonally across the table from Malfoy. Malfoy placed the salt in the middle of the table and Lacie muttered her thanks. Hermione felt slightly awkward at the Malfoy dinner table. It was far too formal for her liking, especially for a family who were just receiving a guest. There was no hearty conversation, just the odd conversation about the Ministry, or politics and those topics were limited only to Mr and Mrs Malfoy. The children, it seemed, didn't speak at dinner.

She felt as if she was missing something, or maybe the Malfoys regularly ate like this, in uncomfortable silences. At home, there was always a topic of conversation, and it was rare for dinners to end without a debate between Hermione and her father.

Thank God Hermione wasn't a Malfoy, which was the reason why she decided to break the silence.

"These potatoes are delicious, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione complimented, after the light buttery texture slid down her throat as if it wasn't there. "They're probably better than Grandmother Granger's."

Lacie was glaring at her and kicked her under the table. Mrs Malfoy looked completely confused. Hermione closed her mouth and looked reproachfully across the table at Lacie. The kick had _hurt._

Malfoy, who was unfortunately sitting next to her, leaned slightly towards her to whisper, "Mother did not make the potatoes."

Hermione turned to Lacie and raised an eyebrow. Apparently the Malfoys didn't cook themselves and she got the hint immediately. She didn't dare to inquire further. She stared at her plate, wondering if Dobby had slaved over this dinner as well. The thought seemed to put her off her food completely.

"This Grandmother Granger sounds interesting, who is she?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

"She's obviously my grandmother, Mal…" Hermione received another kick under the table. Hermione's eyes watered as she tried not to shout at Lacie. That one that actually, _really_ hurt. She knew what slip up she had made and corrected herself. "Draco."

The name felt foreign in her mouth and she could never get used to saying it. Malfoy must have thought that it sounded horrible with her voice and he didn't hide it with his expression.

"I know that, I was just wondering about her," Malfoy said rolling his eyes.

"She's a chef who trained in France," Hermione muttered, pushing around the food on her plate, her appetite quickly disappearing. "Before she got arthritis, we used to go to her house every Sunday for dinner."

"Oh, France," Lacie gushed, "Mother, did you know that Hermione always holidays in France at Christmas? She does – oh, what was it called again?"

"Skiing," Hermione supplied for her.

"Yes, that."

"What is skiing?" Mrs Malfoy asked over her salad.

"It is a sort of Muggle sport, love," Mr Malfoy answered for Hermione, "Am I correct, Miss Granger?"

"Hermione, please sir," Hermione said, "and yes, it is."

"I have heard it is quite strange, you sledge down a snowy slope on two sticks, " Mr Malfoy said further. "And I hear it is quite the exhilarating experience."

"Yes sir, and it is."

"Dear, you seem to know a lot about skiing," Mrs Malfoy said with a smile and she placed a hand on Mr Malfoy's. "I would not have thought that it would have interested you."

"Ah, you see, Bagman loves it. A few months ago, he wanted to make it Wizarding, have hovering skis instead of ones on the ground – codswallop if you ask me," Mr Malfoy replied, "We already condone too many Muggle sports. We do not need another."

"The only real sport is Quidditch," Draco said.

"I will agree to that," Lacie said, "but ballet is a sport as well."

Malfoy tutted beside Hermione as Mr Malfoy turned to Hermione, "Hermione do you have a team?"

Hermione didn't reply for a moment, as she didn't know what to say. She didn't even know what he was talking about until it suddenly dawned on her what the question must have meant.

"I'm don't have a particular team, sir, but," Hermione answered as Mr Malfoy started to look increasingly dissatisfied with her answer, "I would support the Montrose Magpies if they were to play."

Mr Malfoy frowned a little before turning it into a smirk, "Impressive."

Hermione was suddenly glad that she had paid enough attention to Lacie's and Ron's fights about Quidditch teams to know that the Malfoy family were all fervent supporters of the Magpies. It seemed for now that Mr Malfoy didn't think she was completely ignorant of Wizarding culture.

"I hear the Chudley Cannons lost the championship again," Malfoy remarked as he cut through his horribly rare steak. "Absolutely hopeless. Maybe if they spent less money on distracting uniforms and more on better players they may not end up on the bottom _again_."

"They're…" Hermione said but Lacie jumped in to stop what Hermione had to say.

"Weasley supports them."

"Typical," Draco commented.

"And Harry Potter."

"Again, typical." This time was more aggressive, "Saint Potter."

"Draco…"

" _Not_ in front of the guest…" Mrs Malfoy said through gritted teeth and a smile. This made Hermione feel more like an outsider at the dinner table. When Mrs Malfoy looked up, she had a bright expression and had a sweet tone, "Hermione, I heard you came top of the year."

"Er…" Hermione could still feel heat coming from her cheeks. She didn't know how to appropriately answer that.

"She's just being modest," Lacie said with a smile, "she got 112 per cent in Charms, I though you could only get up to 100 per cent but it seems like I was wrong, she is a complete genius."

Lacie smiled across the table at Hermione. Hermione felt slightly calmer.

"You mean, know-it-all."

"Draco," Lacie growled. Hermione felt uneasy again. She hadn't meant to make Lacie defensive over her and she didn't want Malfoy apologising if it gained his father's disapproval for doing so.

"I meant…" Malfoy started to say.

Hermione turned to Malfoy, "It's fine. Really."

There was another silence. Hermione tried to busy herself by eating as little as possible but it looked rude so she ate a bit more before reverting to pushing bits around her plate. She couldn't get over how possibly the fragile creature had cooked her meal. Hermione knew what she was raised like, but it wasn't like this. Mum would have rather starved than let someone who wasn't being paid to cook instead of her, with the exception of Dad. Even Grandmother Granger wasn't allowed to cook for free. Mum always had a way of slipping a few pounds under an armchair before she left.

Maybe Hermione would be able to drop a few Sickles for the House-Elf to find. That cleared her conscience a little. She would do that. People did that all the time, didn't they? They left money in rooms when they went on holiday. Well, Hermione's Mum did, at least.

"Your parents must be so proud," Mrs Malfoy said as she crossed her knife and fork on her plate signalling she was finished, despite eating a meagre amount. She opened her mouth to speak again.

"What was their reaction when they found out you were a witch?" Mr Malfoy asked, rather intrusively, cutting off what Mrs Malfoy was going to say.

"Shock," Hermione said immediately before her cheeks went slightly pink, "Disbelief, I suppose all Muggle parents must have the same emotions, then they got really excited and helped me with my books before I went to Hogwarts."

"The Board of Governors have considered not telling the parents of Muggleborns that there is a Magical Society," Mr Malfoy said casually, "Too risky for Muggles to know."

"Lucius!" Mrs Malfoy gasped, "How would the Board of Governors explain the 9 month absence every year?"

"Memory replacement, we make them simply believe that their children are going to an exclusive boarding school and they have already given their consent," Mr Malfoy replied, "Very, very modern but the spells are extremely advanced and complicated. One small mistake and an entire memory could be wiped."

"That's completely barb - …" Hermione started but Malfoy shoved an elbow into her rib just as Lacie kicked her on the knee. Hermione expressed her pain by shouting, "… - ARIC!"

Mr Malfoy looked at her as if she was something alien to his dinner table. "Excuse me?"

Lacie glared at her and tilted her head warning her not to answer. Malfoy's fork rested next to her, dangerously close to stabbing her hand. Mrs Malfoy, however, said, "I agree with her. You cannot expect to play the Gods with these people's children because they're born different. I would never allow Lacerta or Draco to be taken in such a manner."

To which, Mr Malfoy said, "Of course, Narcissa. I agree wholeheartedly on the matter, which is why it is still in consideration."

His expression on Hermione didn't exactly say that he was anti-kidnapping Muggleborns. In fact, he looked as if he completely disagreed with his wife.

"Does it matter?" Lacie asked suddenly.

"Does what matter, Lacerta?" Mrs Malfoy asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Being Muggleborn or pureblood?" Lacie said, "We all can do magic, of course, some purebloods have a better upbringing but who is to say that we aren't equal? Surely we are judged by our actions not our blood."

"Lacerta, surely, with all you have learnt - …" Mr Malfoy said immediately but Mrs Malfoy wrapped a pale hand around her husband's knife-wielding hand.

"Lacerta is entitled to her opinion," Mrs Malfoy said with an unhappy face. When Mr Malfoy grunted and returned to his meal, Mrs Malfoy seemed to hide a smile that Hermione noticed, but she doubted that she was supposed to have seen that secret smirk. "Lacerta, are you finished?"

"Yes, mother."

"Well, would you like to retire for the night, and take Hermione with you?" Mrs Malfoy smiled. Lacie pushed her chair back soundlessly and stood up. She leant towards her mother and Mrs Malfoy kissed her quickly on each cheek. Lacie walked to Mr Malfoy and received another two kisses on her cheeks, she went to Malfoy and Malfoy kissed her once.

Hermione froze in her seat. Surely she was not to partake in this strange farewell, was she?

Malfoy leaned over towards her with a sickened expression. "Unfortunately, I must kiss you goodnight. Mother and Father don't have the misfortunate to do so."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Mrs Malfoy gasped, "Must I remind you, that Hermione is a _guest_ , and we do not speak to our guests in such a manner."

"But, Mother…"

"No buts, if you want that new broomstick -…"

"I think it better to forgo the tradition," Mr Malfoy interrupted with an upturned lip. "Goodnight Miss Granger."

Lacie pulled Hermione up and they powerwalked to Lacie's room, where Lacie fell on her bed with a drawn-out groan. Hermione stood on the edge and gulped for some air. She didn't like the amount of stairs that she had to walk up in order to get to Lacie's room. Lacie didn't even lift herself up from her bed to look at Hermione.

"Surely it couldn't have been _that_ terrible," Hermione said with a grimace.

"For you," Lacie mumbled, "Father is going to be spinning with anger for the rest of the holidays."

"But, why?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, you said the wrong things, did the wrong things, shouted the wrong things," Lacie said sitting up.

"That's a little rude!"

"There is no conversation at a Malfoy dinner," Lacie said, "Father talks and we listen and speak when we are spoken to."

"I said your mother's potatoes were lovely!"

"Mother would have never been seen touching a potato with her bare hands, let alone cook it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I've never exactly been waited on before, how was I supposed to know?"

"Plus, almost calling Draco by his surname was rude," Lacie said.

"Force of habit, I'm sorry," Hermione said sincerely.

"Well, I exaggerate, your first dinner was not so much of a complete disaster," Lacie said honestly. "I wish you were going to be here next weekend, Mother is throwing her end-of-summer barbecue inspired by Demeter."

"Demeter?"

"Greek Goddess of harvest and fertility of the earth!" Lacie exclaimed, "I thought you would have known!"

"I - …"

Hermione was interrupted by a faint knock at the door, "May I come in?"

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Lacie shouted. The door swung open and, there was Malfoy, leaning on the doorframe as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Now, now, Lacie. Have you forgotten that you have to be up early?" Malfoy said.

"For what?"

"Miss Belle-Faire."

Lacie didn't need Hermione to tell her that it would be a bad thing for her to not be punctual for her strict ballet teacher. Lacie had it written all over her face.

Lacie groaned, "I have to at least take Hermione to her room."

"It is down the corridor, _I will_ take her," Malfoy said, he stepped into Lacie's room before frowning at the walls. "Scarlet? Lacie? Really?"

"Emerald? Draco? Really?" Lacie imitated Malfoy's tone, to a tee, except it had to be several notes higher as she couldn't reach his low tone. Hermione almost jumped in fright when she realised that Malfoy's voice had gotten lower over the holidays and that he was a few inches taller than he had been when she had last encountered him at Kings' Cross Station. She hadn't expected such a change in him over a short period.

Malfoy grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her out, "Sleep tight."

When Malfoy had closed the door behind him, his pulling became rougher until Hermione was forced to pull her hand out of his. She crossed her arms and walked without looking at him. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy?"

"You are _so_ polite, Granger," Malfoy sighed sarcastically and sidled beside her.

"Thank you, as ever."

Hermione stopped at the door of the room that she was staying in. "Night, Malfoy."

"Granger," he muttered before moving his head towards her. For a moment, she thought she felt the dry lips of Draco Malfoy on her cheek but when she realised it, he was soon down the corridor and speeding away.

"Malfoy?"

He waved a hand and shouted, "Goodnight!"

Hermione felt a patch of red heat up rapidly on her cheek. She touched it and she faintly heard a door slam. Hermione didn't want to smile, but she couldn't control the smile playing on her lips.

x-x-x-x-x

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked as Lacie pulled her down a corridor on the ground floor where glass reached from the floor up to the ceiling. Sun poured in through the windows, causing the pale marble on the floor to sparkle as they moved across it.

"Yes! Oh, it will be lovely, maybe Miss Belle-Faire will want to teach you too!" Lacie exclaimed, gliding along and making Hermione bob up and down uncomfortably. Lacie was wearing her usual pale blue leotard and her flimsy blue skirt but she was carrying her heavy ballet shoes in her hands. These new ballet shoes, Lacie had told her in great detail, would allow Lacie to start practising to dance on her toes. Hermione had frowned at that idea. It sounded too painful to be an aspiration. She had tried walking on her toes but fell onto the floor with an almighty bump and sore toes. She didn't see the appeal and was not going to try it again.

"Of course, it will take an awfully long time for me to build up the strength to do it," Lacie explained, "but it will be worth it." She pranced along the corridor, jumping on her tiptoes lightly before doing a pirouette and standing in the middle of the long corridor. "Soon, I shall dance for International delegates and the Minister for Magic herself."

"Herself?"

"Of course, it is more tradition for a man to be the Minister, but who is to say that a woman would not have that title? They do the job _so_ much better." Lacie said. "Just like Millicent Bagnold, the woman who led Britain into the Light Ages."

"Millicent Bagnold would not be so respected, had it not been for your friend, Potter," Mr Malfoy stepped out into the corridor from a room leading off it.

"Yes, father, I was merely - …"

"Yes, yes, Lacerta," Mr Malfoy said distractedly, "Ah! Miss Granger, how lovely it is to see you!"

He said this as if he had not seen her before with Lacie. Hermione tried to push this cynical feeling aside and greeted him a good morning.

"Would you like to come out to the garden? Breakfast is being served as we speak."

"She was going to - …"

"Now, now Lacerta. You are the one that wants to do ballet, not Miss Granger," Mr Malfoy said as if he was chastising a five year-old child. His face turned from light-hearted into severe after a few moments. "Go."

"But - …"

" _Now_."

Lacie looked terrified and let go of Hermione without saying a word. He had scared her into not even looking at Hermione as she shuffled along the corridor. She didn't even look back as she pulled a heavy door open and went in a room at the end of the corridor presumably her private dance studio. Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't feel the need to feel so worried, but then again, she didn't know what Mr Malfoy was capable of when he used that tone.

"So, Miss Granger, shall we walk?" Mr Malfoy turned around and opened the door to the room that he had come out of.

"Yes, sir," Hermione said and followed him. He didn't hold the door open for her as he passed through the room and Hermione sometimes had to pulled the heavy door open herself. After walking around the corridors for a while in what seemed liked a circle, Mr Malfoy opened the door to a beautifully furnished patio where Mrs Malfoy and Malfoy were already eating.

"Good morning, Hermione," Mrs Malfoy said before patting the seat next to her, "Come, please."

X-x-x-x-x

Draco flinched as Granger sat opposite to him, and next to his doting mother who chatted with her as if she was another daughter. Draco did not like how much his mother had warmed up to her already. Draco also did not like how his father looked down at her.

He stabbed his fork into his sausage. He. Didn't. Know. What. To. Do.

On one hand, he hated having Granger around and having to treat her like a guest and having to be oh-so-polite, and to say the right thing. On the other, he wanted her around more. He liked the way that she stood up him; to the shock of his mother and father, and that she was controversial and irritated his father. Father was one not to be scorned, but Draco enjoyed watching Granger scorn him.

Then Draco had kissed her, although chaste, it was still a kiss. He ran away to hide the redness of his face that would not disappear. _Why had I done that?_ Thankfully, it was a gesture that Granger understood. It was a polite kiss goodnight. Yet, he was overwrought with embarrassment that she might think that it was different. He went red at the thought.

"Draco?"

Draco looked up to find his mother looking at him with amusement. Granger sat next to her, the corner of a piece of toast just touching her pink lips. He went further red.

"Yes?" his voice was a lot squeakier than should have been.

"Would you like some toast?" Mother asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no." Draco's eyes darted from the toast that was in Granger's hand back to the pile of toast on the table.

"Close your mouth, Draco, or you will catch flies," Mrs Malfoy said rather nonchalantly. Draco shut his mouth and stared into his cereal.

"Did you sleep well?" Mother asked Granger. Granger chewed her toast quickly. She probably did not want to speak with her mouth full, where politeness and customs were regarded so highly.

"Yes, thank you."

Granger was being unnecessarily polite. She did not need to, being a Mud-, sorry, _Muggleborn_ and a guest. No one in the family, aside from Lacie, expected anything from her seeing as she was both common and a Gryffindor. Yet here she was, being polite, saying 'please' and 'thank you' and 'I'm fine, Mrs Malfoy'. The dinner last night had been completely hilarious, watching Granger slip up so many times. Draco knew that she was going to attempt to call her 'Malfoy' at least one time, before Lacie kicked her into calling him 'Draco'. He wished that she hadn't kicked Granger because the way that Granger said his name was like an Anglophone trying to speak French. It was horrible.

Draco tried to think something else because he did not want his entire thoughts occupied completely by Granger. He thought about scrambled eggs before he had a sudden urge to have some.

"Master Malfoy, your scrambled eggs," a small voice squeaked beside him. Draco turned to the direction of the voice and Dobby was there, holding out a plate of freshly scrambled eggs.

"Er… thank you, Dobby," Draco said taking the plate. "How did you -…?"

"It is Dobby's job to know what his Master wants," Father barked, "Dobby, go back to work."

"Y-Yes, sir." With a crack, Dobby was gone. Draco did not particularly want the scrambled eggs anymore but he shoved a forkful into his mouth.

"May I be excused?" He heard Granger say suddenly. She did not wait for his mother to reply before she pushed her chair back and moved swiftly from the table.

"Draco, will you follow Hermione?" Mother asked politely. Draco looked at her as if asking if she was really asking that of him. She returned another look, telling him that she wanted him to follow Granger _right now_. Draco groaned as he stood up and walked behind Granger, who was powerwalking into the garden. Draco did not particularly want to chase her, why should he? She was the one throwing a hissy fit. Draco waited for her to get lost before he said something. He would give her credit for making it all the way into the maze, but she soon halted for enough time for Draco to catch up to her.

"Go away," she sniffed.

"Smart, telling your host to leave," Draco said, leaning against a hedge. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You cannot fool me."

"I'm not Lacie."

Draco chuckled. "No, you are not. But you are her friend, which in her world makes you _my_ friend."

"Well, I'm not, so don't say things like that," she muttered. She her cheeks now had a rosy edge to them.

"Alright then, but I suggest that you not throw little tantrums when you want, if you do not like it so much here at the Manor then you are free to leave," Draco said in a very childish way, "I would leave before Lacie had a chance to finish her lesson. I would not want to see her face of disappointment."

Granger flinched and then looked at Draco strangely. She took a shaky breath as if she was going to compose herself.

"Why does he _wear_ that?" She asked after a moment.

Draco tilted his head, "Who?"

"Dobby, why does he wear that dirty tablecloth?"

Draco shrugged, "I do not know, but maybe because he likes wearing it."

"How can anyone like wearing that thing?" Granger asked, shaking her head at the logic of Draco's sentence. "Would you wear it?"

Draco did not know how to answer. If he said no, he would look silly for saying that Dobby liked his clothes. If he said yes, then she would laugh and think he was saying it because it was better than saying no.

"It would depend on the situation," Draco said very diplomatically. He had to learn to be diplomatic, since he was definitely going to be the Minister for Magic in twenty years time. Hermione raised an eyebrow. She seemed to see right through him.

"Like what situation?"

Draco had definitely not thought through his half-baked idea. At least in twenty years time, he would have people like Granger under him to think through situations like that. "If I had to do the work that Dobby has to do in a day, then I would probably wear it. Or if I was going to a Greek costume party."

"Or a Roman costume party," Granger supplied.

"Roman?"

"You know, the Romans and the Greeks are almost synonymous," Granger said trailing off.

"I have only heard of the Greeks."

"Right."

"Did you know that some wizards are believed to be descendants of the Greek Gods?" Draco asked her. Granger, being a non-informed Muggleborn probably wouldn't know something as complicated as that.

"Like Demeter?" she asked with an amused tone.

"Goddess of Harvest, apologies to her if she is listening, but I always preferred Athena."

"I'm sorry, what?" Granger asked. "Your mother's owl?"

"Goddess of wisdom and battle strategy," Draco answered shortly, "but yes, Mother's owl is named after the Goddess."

"Right."

"You do not believe a word I say, do you?"

"Nope." Granger replied, popping the 'p'. "There's no logical fact to prove it."

Draco tried to think of something to come back with but there was nothing that Granger could not retaliate with. He could tell her that there were some people who were proven to be descendants of the Greek Gods, but then, she would not believe him. For Granger, books and facts were everything. Unfortunately, Draco had to witness that on a daily basis when they were at school. Draco wished that she could believe something that was not based in logical fact, after all, there had been nothing logical about magic before she went to Hogwarts.

"What is that noise?" Granger asked, wandering deeper into the maze. Draco rolled his eyes.

"That is the fountain."

"You have a _fountain_ in your garden?" Granger asked with an astonished tone.

"Yes, but we cannot go there," Draco said, following her, "No one has ever been able to find the fountain."

"If you can't see it, how do you know it's there?"

"I can _see_ it from my bedroom, but it does not matter how many hours you invest into look for a route to the fountain, you will never get there."

"Follow the sound, then," Granger pouted.

"Do you really need to tell me to do that?" Draco frowned. "I have spent years trying to find the fountain."

"Maybe it doesn't want to be found," Granger said simply. She walked a little towards the sound, only to turn a corner, which seemed right but the noise of lapping water got further away. She turned to Draco and pulled a face.

"I told you, it is not easy."

"Why do you have a fountain you can't go near?"

"Grandfather says that it is the Fountain of Fair Fortune," Draco said impressively. Granger just looked confused.

"The, what?" she giggled.

Draco got irritated, "Do you not read?"

She sobered immediately, "Is that in a book?"

"It -…" Draco sighed, "Never mind."

"Tell me!"

"No, read it yourself."

Granger pulled a face before turning on her heel to walk in the direction they had walked in, in order to get this far into the maze. Draco felt the greenery slide past him and it confused him as it surrounded him in a green haze. Granger was just navigating her way easily back to the garden.

"How are you doing that?" Draco asked her as she skipped along without a care, whilst Draco felt the familiar ache in his temples.

"I remembered the way back."

"How?"

"I threw bread crumbs all over the floor," she said with a sarcastic tone for some reason. It was Draco's turn to look completely bewildered. Granger raised an eyebrow. "Hansel and Gretel?"

"Who are they?" Draco asked, still not understanding what she meant.

"Don't you read?" she asked with the same tone that he had used on her a few moments before.

"Ha, ha," Draco muttered. He couldn't help it if Muggle faery-tales did not interest him. It was like Granger's predicament, she didn't know the stories of his childhood either.

 _It is not her fault if she did not know what she was until this time last year_ , a horrible, rational voice said in the back of his mind. He hated those voices that reminded him terribly of Mother. Thinking of his Mother, and how much she liked Granger made Draco slightly jealous. Soon, they were back in the garden and the decking where breakfast had been served was empty. Draco's unfinished plate of scrambled eggs still lay there beside his half-empty glass of orange juice.

"I do wonder where Mother and Father are," Draco said aloud. Granger did not say anything. She just fidgeted with the edge of her cardigan, as most of the girls he knew did. Draco could hear a banging in the distance and he looked at Granger for a moment. She looked at him with a sombre expression.

"What was that?" Granger asked.

"Do I _look_ like I know?" Draco answered with a question, "I will go and see what the matter is."

"I'll come with you."

Draco did not like her following him, but he had no choice. He could not really say no, and if he did, Mother would disapprove and he would be locked in his room until Monday, after Granger had left. He did not like that idea. He liked speaking with Granger very much, sometimes, when she was being reasonable, like before. He liked telling her things, but he did not know why. It was probably because she was so clever anyway, and telling her things that she did not know seemed to satisfy his ego.

The banging continued, and Draco realised that the noise was coming from the kitchen. He jumped down the stairs, two at a time, and looked around the grim kitchen. Granger almost barged into him, as he stopped suddenly.

Father was hitting Dobby with his stick. Draco stopped breathing in shock.

"You. Are. Not. To. Leave. Without. Permission!" Father said, hitting Dobby with each word. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Draco moved back, he did not want to be caught intruding on this moment. He had never seen Father so violent, or angry. Even Father's long, blond hair was coming out of its neat ponytail. Draco pulled Hermione by the hand and ran upstairs, until they were in the West Wing. He knew that it would be a _bad thing_ for them to be caught by Father. Father was angry. He did not need provoking further. They panted in the corridor. Draco realised he was holding onto Granger's hand and let it go. Swiftly. He looked over at Granger and she looked like she was crying.

"H-He is not normally like that," Draco said, scared to even look Granger in the eye.

Granger sniffed. "I would like to leave, today, if you didn't mind."

At that moment, Draco did not want her to leave. They had witnessed something completely unspeakable that no one else would understand. Draco did not want to stay at home and bear the guilt of having seen Dobby being punished so dreadfully, and hearing his whimpers with each strike. He needed someone to keep him company, despite how selfish it was at the moment, he needed someone who _knew_.

"Please stay," Draco begged, before he even knew it.

"I can't stay, not when - …" Tears started to stream down her cheeks. "That was so awful, Draco! How-How could he - …"

She couldn't finish her sentence. She was so overwrought with emotion that she had called him _Draco_.

"If you want to go, then - …"

Granger nodded and slipped into the room she was staying in. Five minutes later, she was carrying her suitcase. She nodded at Draco and disappeared down the corridor.

Draco received the silent treatment from Lacie for days, as she believed he was the reason that Hermione had left. Draco did not dare tell her the real reason. He was too scared to believe the fact that his father was the reason why Dobby could not walk properly for two weeks and they had seen what he had done.

* * *

 _A/N: If this story so far doesn't make sense, you may have to read Bright Star first._

 _Quick summary if you don't have the time: Lacerta Malfoy (aka Lacie) is the twin sister of Draco Malfoy who was Sorted into Gryffindor (shock!) and she happens to be Hermione's best friend. This is an AU of the events of Chamber of Secrets._

 _Love always,  
_

 _CS._


	3. The Days are That No More

**Chapter Two: The Days are That No More**

* * *

" _Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns  
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds  
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes  
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;  
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more."_

Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'Tears, Idle Tears'

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer to JK Rowling**_

* * *

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione shrieked as she saw her two friends walking into Flourish and Blotts. She threw herself at them, wrapping one arm around each of their necks. Harry hadn't grown much over the summer, but _Ron_ , it seemed like Hermione needed a stool to be able to speak to him face-to-face. "I've missed you!"

"You too," Harry grunted as he tried to pull away, Ron tutted and waited for Hermione to let go of him before moving away.

"You didn't get into any trouble, did you?" Hermione whispered as Mrs Weasley brushed past her.

"Er… when?"

"Why do I get the feeling that I won't like anything you say?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"Because you're - …"

"Hermione!" Mr Weasley said, shaking her hand profusely, "I've heard so much about you!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at him, "Er… thank you?"

She glared at Harry and Ron who looked like the picture of innocence next to each other.

"Yes, yes, Ron's said so much, about being the cleverest witch in the year, and partly the reason why he got such good marks in his exams, and that you're pretty…" Mr Weasley said. Ron went a bright red.

"Dad!" he exclaimed.

"A little embarrassment never hurt, son," Mr Weasley said, nudging Ron with his elbow. He tried to look over the crowd of people standing in front of them before turning to Hermione and asking, "Alone, are you?"

"No, I'm here with Mum and Dad," Hermione said distractedly as she tried to look for her parents. The childish fear of not being able to see them coursed through her and she found herself remembering the age-old instruction: _If you're lost, don't move, because we'll always come and find you_.

Hermione's heart stopped racing when she saw her parents point and giggle at a book cover at the back of the shop. They seemed completely disinterested in the crowd of people that were queuing up to get their books signed by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"It's awfully busy, isn't it?" Hermione said excitedly.

"Yeah," Ron muttered, "I wish he'd hurry up!"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Gilderoy Lockhart, his fans are taking up the shop, we'll never get home at this rate," Ron said angrily.

"Ron, he's the author for most of the books for second-year," Hermione sighed and looked dreamily into a moving poster behind Ron, "you could be a little respectful."

"He's a git," Ron said simply. Mr Weasley snorted with laughter, but after receiving a reproachful look from Mrs Weasley, he started lecturing Ron on using horrible words like 'git' with a small stutter. Harry and Hermione smirked beside him. Mr Weasley's stuttering exacerbated the hilarity as he improvised his tirade and gave some alternate, nicer words that Ron could use in the future. Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around to face her parents.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" her mum asked, her dad just stood beside her with an elated smile.

"Er… Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, they're in my House and my year, and this is er, Mr Weasley, Ron's dad," Hermione said quickly and awkwardly, trying to sound as polite as she could in front of her parents and as socially as she could without being teased for it by Harry and Ron later.

"You can call me Arthur," Mr Weasley said, putting out a hand for Hermione's parents to shake.

"Nancy," Hermione's mum said, taking the hand for a swift shake and letting go. Her father followed suit, shaking Mr Weasley's hand and telling him his name.

"It's a bit busy in here, isn't it?" Mr Weasley started to say after conversation had dwindled to a halt.

"Awfully so," Hermione's dad said. "Who is this Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"Charles, he's on Mia's booklist," Hermione's mum reminded him.

"Right."

Harry and Ron looked at Hermione, a look that Hermione's mum caught. "We used to call her Hermia as a short way of saying Hermione, but we got fed up of that, and started called her Mia."

"Why not Hermy?" Ron asked snickering. Hermione shot him a glare. Ron recoiled and the smile was wiped off her face.

"'Mione hates all of her nicknames, don't you love?" Hermione's dad said, squeezing her tightly as she said in a mortified whisper, "Dad!"

"Right, right." Hermione's dad held his hand up guiltily, "Where's this other friend of yours, Lucy Mallot?"

"Lacie Malfoy!" Hermione said in an exasperated tone. Hermione's father apologised jovially again.

"Yes, yes. Where is she?"

Hermione looked around for the distinct blonde hair that Hermione could distinguish as Lacie's. Hermione craned her neck to no avail. She listened as her father continued to talk to Mr Weasley.

"It's hard to keep track of all these names she comes out with, there was a Seamus, Parvati and Elvendork…"

"Elvendork? I have _never_ said Elvendork!" Hermione interrupted with a giggle.

"It's unisex," Harry quipped.

Everyone turned to look at him with some sort of dumb astonishment.

X-x-x-x-x

Hermione's father was the first to recover. "Excuse me?"

"I-I," the boy flushed, "I don't know, I just remembered hearing it a lot."

Harry Potter was saved from answering another question from Charles, as there was a chilling voice behind him, "Mr Granger, how pleasant it is to see you."

He turned around to see a tall, proud man with a deep green cloak on which looked to be made with the finest velvet. Of course, Charles was joking. He didn't think that the cloak looked very appealing to wear, valuable or not, he looked like a blonde _Dracula_ and that in itself seemed like a joke. Charles was very proud of his turtleneck sweater and chinos that he had adorned that day, and didn't appreciate much the younger boy beside the man eyeing him up like he was an alien.

"Mr… Malfoy," Charles said, holding out a hand, only just remembering the man's name. He was the father of the aforementioned Lacie Malfoy. Charles could almost see the resemblance. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Shopping, are we?"

For some reason, Charles didn't like his tone, at all. There was something strange about the way that he was speaking at him that made him think that. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Just a few bits and bobs," Charles explained, "I didn't think it would take a day to get some books!"

"Now, now, Charles," Nancy said, curling an arm around his, "Book signings are usually this busy."

"I think we have not met before…" Mr Malfoy said holding out his hand, "Lucius Malfoy, Draco and Lacerta's father."

"Oh, hello. I'm Nancy," Nancy said, twirling a lock of her hair before shaking Mr Malfoy's hand rather firmly. "And no, we haven't. Met, that is."

"Nancy," Mr Malfoy pondered, stretching out the name whilst playing with the elaborate handle of his cane, "A diminutive of _Agnes_?"

"A city in the province of Lorraine," Charles answered for his wife and she started to gently stroke his hand. She looked at him with a little bit of surprise. Charles would happily bet that she hadn't expected him to remember such a tedious fact about her life. Mr Malfoy made an unassuming surprised sound. Again, there was something in the way that he had done it that Charles didn't like.

 _Don't be so prejudiced_ , _just because Mia didn't like his house!_ Charles thought to himself before returning to the conversation.

"My mother loved the place, she spent most of her life there, even during the Wars," his wife said. "She was there during the annexation of Alsace-Lorraine, where she met my father."

She said this in a very soft tone, and not once looking at Mr Malfoy but instead at his son with a strange expression on her face. She looked away once the boy noticed that Nancy was looking at him.

"I heard a lot about Hermione's grandmother," Mr Malfoy said, inclining his head towards Charles' daughter. Mia was talking away as there was a commotion by where Gilderoy Lockhart (whoever the man was) was signing books. "I hear she is a fabulous cook, trained in France."

" _My_ mother," Charles corrected, "She trained in Paris, nowhere near Nancy unfortunately."

"Ah…" There was a disapproving look on his face. "It seems like we are all linked to France. Narcissa's, my wife's, family mainly come from there. She wanted Draco and Lacerta to be raised bilingual, so we hired a governess."

"How charming," Nancy said, her expression becoming more and more glassy. Charles could feel it too. The way that Mr Malfoy was speaking to them was odd, as if had no hope of ever reaching the stage at which he was at. Nancy had just picked up on his condescending tone. So what if his children were raised bilingual? The idea never came across his or his wife's minds due to the fact that they knew that Hermione would learn it in school. Charles looked at his daughter who was happily talking to Mr Weasley.

"So," Charles said, trying to alleviate the air, "where is Lacerta? I would have thought she would be here."

"Ballet," Mr Malfoy said shortly, " _Girls_. I have always said that Quidditch was a far more superior sport but she insists on ballet."

Hermione had often said that Mr Malfoy didn't like anything that wasn't Wizarding very much, and Charles could see that now. He could see that Mr Malfoy was taking a great deal of effort to look like he was interested to speak to them, but really, he wasn't. He _knew_ what the intonation in Mr Malfoy's tone was now. Superiority. He was a wizard whilst Charles was not, and only through their daughter were they allowed exclusivity in this elusive World. Charles felt like punching Mr Malfoy in the face. He didn't know the implications of having a Witch for a daughter, having to lie, barefaced, to his mother about where his daughter was at Easter or during the weekends. Letters full of things that he would never, ever know and beyond anything and knowing that somewhere in the depths of England, his daughter was putting her life on the line.

He had felt it. He had felt something unsettling in the middle of June, and he knew that something had happened. Mia had come back a different person, as if nothing had happened before suggesting that she go visit Lauren Fullkomna, the girl who had terrorised her childhood. After spending two hours talking to her childhood bully, Mia skipped out with a smile like she'd lifted something awful from her chest and was ready to carry on life.

Charles looked at Nancy, who stared at him with the same expression. She understood him. She knew that Mr Malfoy thought that they were unpleasant to be around. Charles muttered something about looking around the shop with his wife, to which, Mr Malfoy _sneered_ at him, as if to wonder what a person like Charles could possibly gain from looking in a shop like this before telling him that his daughter was welcome anytime.

 _Liar_.

His son looked at Charles with an unfathomable expression before allowing himself to be dragged away. Charles watched as Mr Malfoy made his way over to Hermione and heard him saying, "Mr Potter…"

There was a hushed conversation in which Charles saw Harry get very defiant and the lingering words of his clever daughter sent goose bumps up and down his arms every time he thought of them for the rest of his life,

"Fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself."

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione stood intransigent beside Harry. He never admitted it, as neither did Hermione, but she was the brains to his plans. Hermione doubted that Harry would survive a crisis like the one that happened at the end of last year, if Hermione had stood with Lacie. Ron stood on his other side. He was his best friend, his strategist and he wasn't going to let Mr Malfoy win this battle.

"I see, Miss Granger," Mr Malfoy said, turning to her. His icy blue eyes seemed to freeze her to the spot but the last thing that Hermione seemed to feel was fear. She wasn't afraid of Mr Malfoy even if she had seen him do the impossible a few weeks ago. "I see you are… insightful as ever."

"As ever, sir."

He stared her down before turning his interest somewhere else, "Arthur, so much overtime, I do hope that they are paying you sufficiently."

"How very _considerate_ , Lucius," Mr Weasley said, his blue-eyed stare not faltering under Mr Malfoy's stare.

"My, my, my, how many children are attending Hogwarts _this_ year?"

"Five," Mr Weasley said shortly. "Ginny is joining this year."

Hermione looked over beside Mr Weasley and saw a young girl with flaming red hair, like all of her brothers, and big brown eyes. It had never occurred to her to ask if Ron had a younger sibling. The girl, Ginny, went a red that matched her hair and shrunk to the shadows. She kept looking at Harry from the corner of her eyes.

Hermione didn't look away until she felt something push her backwards and she fell into something, no _someone_. She turned around to see Draco who looked rather dumbfounded. It was the first moment where Draco and Hermione could talk to each other without other people knowing since she had dramatically left Malfoy Manor. Everyone else was watching Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy engaged in a brawl that would have made Mrs Malfoy cringe.

"Draco, er… Malfoy."

"That's my name." His tone was clipped and cool. He didn't even look at her.

Hermione wasn't perturbed, "Where's Lacie?"

"Home."

"Oh, _home_. Didn't she - …?"

"The less you ask, Granger - …"

"Right, I see."

"She misses you."

She missed her best friend as well. Hermione's letters were getting unanswered, and it had been a while since Adelais had returned back to her. Lacie was probably too angry with her for leaving without saying so much as a goodbye, only leaving a note thanking her for her hospitality.

Hermione didn't get much chance to say anything in response to that as Mr Malfoy came off worse in the fight, strands of blonde hair coming out of his ponytail and his eye looked painfully bruised as he glared at his son. He wiped his robes of dust then proceeded to wipe the dribble of blood coming from his mouth and sniffed.

"Draco, we are off. We do not need to linger much longer," Mr Malfoy said before stopping directly in front of Ginny. He lifted a book from the cauldron she was clutching.

"These hand-me-down books you own, _girl_ , pay better attention to them," he said, throwing it back with disdain. "We would not want your father working so hard, and so _diligently_ for naught."

Hermione saw that Harry was staring at the cauldron with a frown, he opened his mouth to say something, but Mr Malfoy had already left.

It was rather a strange encounter.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione looked up the length of the train and back again. She peeped through the windows of the carriages and stared at the people who sat around the small tables. None of them were Harry, Ron or Lacie. Hermione bit her lip with anxiety as she walked into a carriage that was full of Gryffindors in the same year.

"You haven't see Harry, Ron or Lacie have you?" Hermione asked. Seamus gave her a blank expression whilst Dean shook his head.

"Why should _we_ care about them?" Parvati said quite nastily, " _They,_ or rather, _you lot,_ couldn't care less if one of us went missing."

"Parvati, stop being rude," Cheryl said, nudging Parvati's knee with her foot, "the only reason that I passed History of Magic was because Lacie helped me. Be nice to her, and Hermione too. We all borrowed her notes."

Seamus looked at Cheryl as if he had just discovered her and nodded fervently, "I agree. And no, Hermione, I've seen Fred and George but I didn't see Ron with them."

"Thanks, anyway," Hermione said politely. She nodded at Lavender who hadn't spoken up and patted Neville on the shoulder as he sat segregated on the edge of everyone else. He looked as if he wanted to join her, but decided against it. He probably thought that she would leave him alone once she found her friends.

Hermione wandered aimlessly along the long corridor of the train until she saw Malfoy in a carriage with his fellow Slytherins. She didn't want to just barge in there with a group of unfriendly Slytherins lurking about but she couldn't let go of the feeling that something was wrong. There was no reason for Lacie to not be on the train, especially if Malfoy was on it. She rapped on the glass and watched as all the heads in the carriage swivelled around to face her. Pansy Parkinson gave her an unwelcoming glare through the glass and Blaise Zabini looked at her as if wondering what she could possibly want. Crabbe and Goyle just looked gormless, as usual, and Theodore Nott was looking at her with amusement. Malfoy looked at her angrily, as if to tell her to go away.

She wasn't going to go away. In fact, she was going to go in the carriage.

"Malfoy, I need a word," she said briskly and looked at the confused looks of the other Slytherins, "In private."

Malfoy leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms, "I do not want to talk to you in private."

Hermione grimaced. _All right then..._

"Malfoy, it's about that time when I was in the Manor and at night, you - …"

"In private, you said?" Malfoy stood up and nearly knocked her over with his sudden desire to speak outside the carriage. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and smirked. Of course, he probably hadn't told the rest of his fellow Slytherins that he had pecked Hermione on the cheek. Despite it being a formal way of saying goodnight, she doubted - by the look on Nott's face - which Malfoy would ever live it down.

"Where's Lacie?" Hermione asked, as soon as Malfoy had closed the carriage door so that they were speaking in private.

"She is... well, I am not supposed to say," Malfoy taunted with a smug smile. _The self-righteous, pompous little rat!_

"You're not supposed to kiss Muggleborns on the cheek but you still do it," Hermione hissed.

"It was a formality."

"Mmm..."

"Anyway, shall we put it this way, Lacie is not on the train," Malfoy said, "or even in the country."

"What do you mean?"

"Father sent her away."

"Away?" Hermione asked, "Where?"

"Beauxbatons."

"Stop beating around the bush, Malfoy, where is Lacie?" Hermione nearly grabbed him by the robes and threw him into his carriage, without opening the door. She kept her hands in her pocket, her knuckles grazing her wand.

"Look it up, Granger," Malfoy said with acidic tone and his face was pulled into a very smarmy expression that Hermione wanted to slap. Hermione turned away so she wouldn't think of hitting Lacie's brother. Malfoy grabbed her by her robes and looked at her with a very strange look on his face, "You better watch out this year, _Mudblood_."

He opened the door to his carriage and slid in. Parkinson was the first one to jump at him and ask him what Hermione wanted, or so, Hermione thought. She wasn't a very good lip-reader, but she could tell by the face that Malfoy looked at her with as Parkinson finished speaking, it was time to go.

Hermione spent the rest of the time alone, with a small table to herself. Sometimes, someone from the same year would pass by and nod at her and ask her how her summer was. Fred and George passed by three times to ask her why she was sitting alone and where their brother was. Either they forgot or they thought they were keeping her company. Hermione sat reading a new Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook when she thought about what Malfoy had said. Lacie wasn't on the train. Or the country. She was at some sort of place called Beauxbatons, whatever Beauxbatons was. Was it some sort of prison? What was Mr Malfoy doing sending Lacie somewhere else when she should be at school? And what had Draco meant, _you better watch out this year, Mudblood_? There was the age-old insult again, the one that he had sworn to Lacie that he would never use on Hermione.

There was a quiet announcement telling the students that they were about to reach the train station at Hogsmeade and that students should be school robes by now. The few who had not yet changed shot up and ran down the packed train. Hermione looked around her to see for the final time if Harry and Ron were around. She had to tell them that Lacie wasn't there and there was something odd about the circumstances in which she left. Hermione had not seen Lacie since she had left Malfoy Manor. She never told her. She didn't want to put it in a letter so she was going to tell her at Diagon Alley but with Mr Malfoy there, she found it too intimidating for her to say anything. _What if she didn't believe me?_

She was going to tell her on the train but she was gone. Somewhere. Beauxbatons. She sighed. Maybe she would see Harry and Ron at the Sorting Feast.

x-x-x-x-x

"You two aren't heroes, you know," Hermione said angrily at breakfast the next morning. Lacie wasn't at Hogwarts at all, she had thought that Malfoy was lying or something but clearly Lacie had left. She was extremely annoyed by the fact that Lacie hadn't even written a note, _a note_ to explain where and why she had gone.

How long would have it taken her to write something along the lines of: 'I've left because I rather go somewhere else. Sorry'? Hermione could write that in ten seconds under exam conditions. _Ten seconds!_

"We are," Ron countered, looking too smug despite himself, "legends."

Hermione didn't see the impressiveness of landing on the Hogwarts Grounds in an illegal flying motorcar, after flying across the country in it and breaking almost every Secrecy law that existed. She also didn't see how Harry and Ron were legends in destroying Hogwarts Grounds and landing themselves another detention before term had officially started. They were on the _brink_ of losing points for Gryffindor, but Professor McGonagall had gotten there in enough time before Snape could. It was clear that McGonagall didn't want to repeat of the year before when Lacie had started a food fight in the first week and caused negative points for the first month of term for all four Houses.

"Mmm," Hermione said, buttering a slice of toast. "Sure you are."

Ron had his mouth full as he tried to protest but Harry nudged him in the arm and said, "Don't push it."

"You two are lucky that you are still here and not on the train home," Hermione hissed before she bit into her toast, she swallowed and glared at them, "You've broken some serious Secrecy Laws, and people have gone to Azkaban for that."

"They weren't going to throw us in _Azkaban_ , Hermione," Ron snorted, "Trust me."

"What's - …?" Harry started but he was stopped as a bright red envelope dropped onto Ron's plate. Ron looked like he was going to drop everything that was in his mouth on it. He went bright red, then pale as chalk.

"Would you like to go to Azkaban, _now_?" Hermione smirked as it started to flutter.

"Shut up," Ron said, his hand trembling as he reached for the red envelope. He looked unsure as to whether he should open it, but after encouragement from Neville, he ripped it open, as if it would take away some of the fear. Hermione covered her ears as the Howler screamed at him. It didn't do much for her, as she could clearly hear what Mrs Weasley was screaming. Ron looked like he was about to be sick, and Harry looked extremely guilty. He hung his head in shame, as if it would do something to alleviate the fact Mr Weasley was facing an inquiry at work.

"That wasn't so bad," Hermione said, after the Howler burst into flames and the smoke from it dispersed into the air. "I mean, she could have said that she was taking you home."

Ron gulped. Harry copied him. Hermione sighed. It wasn't as bad as Lacie's situation where she wasn't even in Hogwarts, but then, she might have asked to leave Hogwarts. Hermione's stomach was tossing and turning. They were supposed to have lessons together. It was far too hard to realise that Lacie wasn't sitting next to her making snarky remarks about the Howler and boasting that she never got a Howler. Professor McGonagall had started making rounds with their timetables for that year.

"Athena?" Ron whispered after a moment.

"What?" Hermione asked, "Why are you bringing up the Greek Goddess of battle strategy at eight in the morning?"

"No, _Athena_ ," Ron pointed, "I'd recognise that bloody owl in a crowded street!"

Hermione looked at she saw the familiar shape of Athena as she swooped around the Great Hall. For a moment, she thought that Athena was going to land on the Slytherin table. Malfoy had perked up at the table and looked smug, like he was going to get some form of present from home. Instead, Athena landed gracefully next to Harry. She dropped the letter in her beak on the table along with a small parcel. Harry reached for the letter, only to get a reproachful look from the owl. She guarded the letter, puffing out her chest and stepping on the letter with her feet.

"She looks angry," Hermione noted.

"She wants to be rewarded first, stupid Malfoys," Ron muttered, giving her a rasher of bacon. She accepted the slice immediately and flew off with it in her mouth, probably to devour on her own terms. Harry picked up the letter and Hermione swore that she could recognise the writing on the front. A swirl of jealously filled her stomach as she wondered why it was addressed to Harry. The jealously only increased as Harry confirmed what she thought.

"It's from Lacie!"

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for not updating on Friday [I update this story every Tuesday and Friday, because it was here before then I deleted it/edited it/reuploaded it so I can do so]. I have almost finished writing this story so there will be an ending to this long-drawn out story [previously it was on here for 3-4 years, yeahhhh.]_

 _Again, for context reasons you may want to refer to Bright Star. If you don't want to here's a quick rundown. Lacie/Lacerta Malfoy is Draco's twin who is also Hermione's best friend. Hermione and Draco do not get on, sometimes. If you're here for a Dramione story, soz, all I have is elaborate pre-teen set up._

 _CS._


	4. I Was Cut Off From Hope

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: I Was Cut Off From Hope**

* * *

 _ **"I started once, or seem'd to start in pain,**_  
 _ **Resolved on noble things, and strove to speak,**_  
 _ **As when a great thought strikes along the brain,**_  
 _ **And flushes all the cheek."**_

 **Alfred Lord Tennyson from "** _ **A Dream of Fair Women"**_

* * *

 _Dear Harry._

 _I do not know where to start! Father has gone mad! I do not mean in the simple Malfoy sense, I mean in the sense where he has completely lost his sense. He is crazy, senile, and he needs to go to St. Mungo's immediately! He decided just a month ago that I go to Beauxbatons - which, before you ask… your friend, is a Hogwarts in FRANCE - and the idea that he got me in the school is unimaginable itself seeing as every allowance has been made to make sure that I am made to feel welcome (but the French is killing me, I did not know how bad I was at speaking it before I came here. I keep getting snickers from my classmates who call me 'the English girl' when they talk about me thinking that I do not understand and it is actually such a downgrade from 'Malfoy' last year)._

 _Father is not like this normally. He is being very serious. Mother was so angry when I was Portkeyed all the way to a carriage station on the outside of the school (did you know Beauxbatons students are picked up with several carriages throughout the country, so sophisticated!) and she is demanding that I return to Hogwarts and I agree! I will be back by January! I will!_

 _Father is being so unreasonable! I was not even to write to tell you that I have left but Mother told him that I had yet to give you a present for your birthday. He enchanted the paper so that I can't write certain words on this page or it will go up in flames. Both of them are names. Tell them I will miss them, even R-... Sorry nearly did it! Tell H that I really am sorry, and it would be wise not to send me letters, as the magic of Beauxbatons might not let a Hogwarts owl in its wards. Father... He put this awful thing on Adelais so that I can't send letters outside anyone of the Malfoy family. It's horrible!_

 _Tell H I am sorry. I will miss her and even if I have to wait to be there until January, she is still my best friend. Toujours._

 _Harry, now I am writing to you. I do not know what Father is planning but it is not good. It is... I am not sure. You are the one that always gets in trouble and the fact that Father has sent me so far away means that it must be close to me or else he would have sent Draco away too._

 _Be careful. Stay safe. If you do get in trouble,_ _do not let them break you_ _._

 _Lacie x_ _  
_

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione's hand was shaking as she finished the letter that Harry had handed to her before reading himself. She was angry, for Lacie and because of Lacie.

 _Why did she have to leave? Why wasn't she allowed to say goodbye?_

She didn't understand at all. She didn't know what to do. A single tear fell down her face as she gave the letter back to Harry for him to read. She didn't like how Lacie felt so much of an outsider already, having stepped into the school for two seconds. Hermione didn't want to think about it. Lacie had specifically said that she would miss her, and that she was her best friend.

Hermione wished that she was allowed a second to cry, but she wasn't going to. She knew for a fact that Lacie had done a lot of crying, despite her Malfoy nature and Hermione was going to be positive about it. She was coming back in January. That had to be a good thing. It will be a good thing. It was only a few months.

She gulped. It wasn't going to be a good thing, _at all_ , but Hermione wasn't going to think about it.

"What do you mean she's gone?" Ron said looking up from the letter. Harry slammed it on the table.

"A school in France? What, like a different country?" Harry asked, "Is Mr Malfoy mad?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth for a moment and then sighed, "Maybe it's for the best."

"It's not the best! It's - … What was this about telling Harry to be careful?" Ron pointed at the letter, "What does she _know_?"

Hermione froze. She remembered what Lacie had told her at the end of the year. _A centaur made me promise._ She had to keep her promise to Lacie, even if she had no idea what the promise was about.

"I-I… look, Harry walks into trouble all the time, maybe she was being paranoid."

Professor McGonagall was heading for them and Hermione sat up straight. She knew that Harry and Ron were resisting the temptation to look very amused because they knew that it would annoy her, seeing that she was already slightly annoyed at them. Hermione looked at her first lesson, hoping that it wasn't something involving the Slytherins.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that her first lesson was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. That was an easy morning for her first day back. She saw the same look of relief on Harry and Ron's face and they took one last gulp of pumpkin juice before standing up and going to lessons.

It was inevitable before a certain Slytherin caught up with them.

"Why is my mother sending _you_ post?" Malfoy drawled behind them as they left the Great Hall. It was clear that he had been waiting there to ambush them, and for once, he was without his band of merry men. Hermione guessed it was a morning of surprise where anything could happen.

"Don't you have a lesson?" Hermione asked, pulling a face. Confronting Malfoy was the last thing she wanted to do this morning, especially since she had just gotten a letter from another Malfoy. Malfoy, as Slytherin and stupid as he was, was still Lacie's twin.

"Charms with the Ravenclaws, actually," Malfoy replied before turning to Harry and saying, "What did Mother want?"

"Not you, obviously, or else she would have written to you," Ron said pulling Harry away. Giving Malfoy one last contemptuous look, Hermione followed them.

"I would not step a toe out of line, if I were you Weasley, or Mummy will take you straight home!" Malfoy catcalled.

Ron's insistence to go to Herbology suddenly grew more aggressive. Hermione had to hide a smile as Harry was on the verge of falling over his own feet.

"How did I know that Malfoy was going to ask us about Athena?" Hermione said, not particularly to anyone but Ron still answered for her.

"He's jealous because we're legends."

Hermione snorted at that, "You crashed a car into the Whomping Willow, broke some serious Wizarding laws and got yourself a detention before school formally started, you're hardly legends, unless you want to be some sort of criminal who couldn't fly a vehicle properly when you grow up."

Hermione thought that the Howler screaming at Ron, and Harry's guilty face was enough to make her feel better. In fact, it made her resent the day before where she had aimlessly searched the train only to be alone for most of the duration of it. She had never felt so strangely alone since the moment that she felt that she wanted to end everything with that moment with Lauren in the dream-task. But, in the deepest depths of her mind, where it was concealed so tightly that no one would be able to know in their wildest dreams, what a flicker of happiness that Harry and Ron had done what they had done. If they hadn't, they may not even be in Hogwarts and Hermione would be alone on her journey to Herbology that morning.

"At least we didn't do _that_ ," Harry said, pointing at the Whomping Willow as they passed it. It looked as if Fred and George had gotten all of the toilet rolls in the school and dangled it down the branches for fun. It was the sort of thing that they did for fun when they weren't sending off Hogwarts' toilet seats every now and again.

Professor Sprout walked towards them with great difficulty, as bandages (or toilet roll, it was hard to distinguish from such a distance) seemed to cover most of her body like an Egyptian mummy. Striding beside her…

"Oh, no," Harry and Ron groaned.

Hermione didn't say anything. She just stared.

Gilderoy Lockhart was a fascinating specimen. He shook his hair out in the sunlight, his blonde curls looking silky as he glided his fingers through it. His dazzling smile seemed to radiate kindness and ooze a sense of coolness into the surrounding area, and made Professor Sprout seem like Cleopatra. The bandages that were sprawled over his robes seemed only an extension of himself, it was an enhancement rather that something that would deteriorate his appearance.

Hermione giggled.

"Good morning!" Professor Lockhart called, waving his hand enthusiastically. He turned to Professor Sprout and muttered something. Professor Sprout instantly looked displeased. Hermione didn't know why she should. He was so charming and dreamy. Hermione vividly remembered a boy called Riley Sullivan, who was also good-looking and Hermione had thought was charming as well. Hermione shivered, of course, Riley was smitten for Lauren, her childhood bully. Thank goodness Hermione had memorised everything that Lockhart had ever written, because he, unlike Riley, was a saviour to villagers and those in peril from Dark creatures.

"May I borrow Harry from you?" he asked as he neared. Professor Sprout didn't look too pleased and walked towards the Greenhouses in a huff.

He gave Hermione a toothy, bright smile. Hermione smiled back, it was her own private smile that deserved every _Witch Weekly_ prize it gained, despite how ridiculous the magazine was. She stared at the ground as Harry walked away with Professor Lockhart. She didn't move until Ron moved her away forcibly.

"What's that?" Ron demanded to know, "Urgh! You're _smiling_. Oh, Hermione don't tell me that you _like_ this prat?"

"Don't call him that! He's a Professor!"

"He's _not_ is he?" Ron asked incredulously. Hermione had forgotten he hadn't been at the Sorting Feast where it had been announced that Gilderoy Lockhart, award-winning writer of the Dark Arts, was their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. The thought made Hermione quite giddy. Ron seemed to catch her expression. "If you didn't like him, then why would you say that? You don't mind so much that I call Snape that."

"Shut up!" Hermione felt herself go a little pink.

"Hermione fancies Lockhart! Hermione fancies Lockhart!" Ron chanted.

Hermione punched him in the arm but he didn't stop. She was getting steadily embarrassed as they neared the Greenhouse where their fellow students were lining up.

"Ron, if you don't - …" Hermione said desperately, grabbing any form of threat that she could think of.

"If I don't, what?" Ron taunted with a grin.

"If you step a toe out of line, I'll have to write to your mother and she'll bring you straight home!" Hermione threatened immediately, remembering this morning.

Ron's jovial face went expressionless in a matter of milliseconds. He didn't have a trace of smile and that made Hermione chuckle.

"That's not funny."

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself laughing at Ron's sombre tone, "It is."

"You sounded a little like Malfoy," he said.

"I don't speak pig," Hermione snapped, quicker than she had thought it. Ron snickered and nodded. They stood behind some loud Hufflepuffs. Hermione had never really had patience for some of the Hufflepuffs, especially Ernie Macmillan who always seemed to have this incessant need to brag. However, if she could put up with Malfoy on a bad day, she could put up with Macmillan.

"Morning, Hermione," Ernie said brightly, dimples appeared immediately with his smile.

"Ernie." Hermione said. Ron grunted at him beside her.

"I hear you were top of the year," Ernie said, "I came eighth in the year myself, which is an achievement I suppose. Where did you come, Ron?"

Ron shrugged, "I got into second year, I don't care about places."

Ernie's smile didn't falter, "Pleasant."

Harry sigh could be heard a few feet away as he walked towards them. Hermione turned around to see Harry with his hair particularly messier than it had been five minutes before. Hermione knew that Harry must have run his hands through his hair multiple due to frustration. Hermione rolled her eyes. Only Harry and Ron would think that having a one-on-one conversation with Professor Lockhart was some form of torture. Personally, Hermione couldn't wait to confront someone who had met so much in his lifetime.

"Hello Harry, hoping to lead Gryffindor into a Quidditch victory this year? Of course, we don't expect last year's speed again this year. I'm sure it was fluke on your part," Ernie said loudly as Harry approached.

Harry shrugged like his best friend had done earlier, "I just do what the Captain wants and catch the Snitch."

Ernie didn't have time to give a false sort of pleasantry as Professor Sprout shepherded them from Greenhouse One all the way to Greenhouse Three where there was a selection of different and dangerous plants. Hermione grinned. She knew that this day was going to be interesting.

x-x-x-x-x

After a week, the absence of Lacie was taking its toll. Harry and Ron tried to be a good replacement, but they couldn't fill the empty bed in the dormitory. She often caught herself being jealous over how Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl had each other to gossip with every night and Hermione had only her homework. Then when something awful happened, Hermione knew she couldn't turn to Harry or Ron because they wouldn't understand. She had to wait until Cheryl saw her desperately trying to get rid of the evidence and everything was explained to her. It was a woman thing. Lacie would be able to empathise with her, had she been there.

It was the toll of this week that caused Hermione to find herself in the library early Saturday morning. She found it hard to concentrate when she was near Harry and Ron and when they heard that she was doing extra work, they would roll their eyes and seem to have a telepathic conversation. Hermione was sick of it. It made Hermione wish that Lacie were there so that she could have possible telepathic conversation with her as well. She was not at all feeling well, but wanted to do extra background reading for Professor Lockhart and had quite the bad temper from not having anyone to really talk to. Harry and Ron seemed to roll their eyes when they saw her decorated timetable, something that Lacie would probably not have had done. She would have been nice, even if she didn't like Lockhart. Hermione flicked the page of the large volume that she was reading when she heard someone clear their throat.

She looked up, and wished she hadn't. She forced a smile on her face.

"Malfoy," she said, before nonchalantly looking back at her book. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Hermione heard the sound of a chair being pulled back and felt her stomach knot in annoyance. It hadn't been an invitation to sit beside her.

"I need peace."

Hermione scoffed. "Can't you ask your minions to leave you alone?"

"As much as they would _love_ to do what I want," Malfoy said in a very superior tone, "they are human beings."

At that, Hermione raised an eyebrow. _Had Draco Malfoy tried to sound quite humane or was he being serious?_ Hermione couldn't tell as his book had engrossed him, which like Hermione's book, was a large tome. The moment she looked away, he spoke again, "And also, Pansy would never suspect me of sitting next to you, which makes this a positive."

"I thought you and Parkinson were very close," Hermione said as she turned a page. She could almost hear the growl from his mind.

"I would prefer it if she left me alone," Draco said shortly. "Much like yourself."

"I do leave you alone," Hermione said without emotion, "You seem to be the one floating around me like a fly."

"I suppose."

There was a small pause where Hermione didn't know quite what to say and then she did, but she didn't want to sound stupid so she closed her mouth.

"What are you reading?" Malfoy asked her as she continued to stare at the page without absorbing any of the information.

"A book."

"Ha, ha. What about?"

"Vampires, Lockhart set us an essay, which I finished but I wanted to do some extra background reading," Hermione said, and the look on Malfoy's face said it all. He clearly had regretted asking what he had. "You?"

He didn't answer. He simply just lifted his book and showed the title of his leather-bound book and it's faded golden lettering. _Theories of the Ancient World_.

"You're still not obsessed with that idea are you?" Hermione asked incredulously whilst remembering back to the conversation she had had with Malfoy in the maze that seemed a lifetime ago. "I told you - …"

"And I did not listen…"

"But - …"

"Not everything is logical, or fact or makes sense, sometimes things just _are_ , and I refuse to let you, Granger, stop me from pursuing a subject that I am genuinely interested in."

Hermione didn't know what to say that. Malfoy did have a point, and she went back to her book. For a while they sat in silence, and Malfoy became more engrossed in his book. Hermione knew better than to bring it up, but there was also another thing that she wanted to discuss with him.

"I did some research on house-elves," Hermione said meekly.

"Don't talk to me about house-elves," Malfoy said, without even hesitating to think about what Hermione had said. "I do not want to have to ruin this morning by shouting at you."

"I think - …"

"Shut it, Granger!" Malfoy said, slamming his book shut. "I do not wish to talk about it!"

"Maybe you should," Hermione said quietly, feeling the presence of the librarian, Madam Pince. "We didn't really get to talk about what happened - …"

"And we will never talk about what happened, alright? Dobby is a house-elf, he disobeyed a master's order and therefore said master punished him! This happens all the time in the Wizarding world, Granger, but you are too much of a-a… _Mudblood_ to actually know what it is like to be a real wizard."

When he had finished his tirade, he stood up and stormed out of the library, slamming his book onto the nearest shelf. Madam Pince loomed around the corner and seemed on the verge to chasing Draco for mistreating a book like he did. She stroked the book and seemed like the librarian was having a little conversation with it that Hermione didn't want to intrude on.

Hermione sat in the library for the next hour trying to read the book, but she couldn't get beyond that chapter. Memories of her time at Malfoy Manor seemed to come back to her, such as certain kiss on the cheek. Hermione felt her cheeks go red. _Why had he done that only to treat me like I'm nothing more than dirt?_ Hermione would never be able to decode Malfoy, and she was glad that she had no intention to.

Hermione realised that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her book and decided to borrow it and read it in the dormitory. When she left the library she saw Ron running towards her with an urgent expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought I saw a group of Slytherin Quidditch players leave the Great Hall," he panted, grabbing her by the sleeve and pulling her along.

"Isn't Harry supposed to have a Quidditch practise today?" Hermione asked, remembering Oliver Wood telling Harry to be ready for this morning the previous night. They were speeding down the Grand Staircase, Ron was taking two steps at a time and Hermione was struggling to keep her book under her arm.

"Yeah, Wood took him out this morning before I woke up, anyway, if the Gryffindors are practising, what are the Slytherins up to?" Ron asked, "Which is why I came to find you, to see if you knew anything about it."

"I don't."

"Plus, I saw Malfoy in the Slytherin colours."

" _What_?" Hermione was striding past people who were on their way out of the Great Hall. Ron didn't answer her. Hermione didn't want to interrupt his thoughts as they both walked as fast as they could to the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione nearly fell over her feet several times but the urgency brought her to forget that she was stumbling about. Malfoy was on the Quidditch team? When had _that_ happened? How had it happened? Hermione knew that Malfoy was one to brag but he hadn't said a word to her… Then again, since when had Malfoy considered her as a friend?

 _You are Lacie's friend, and in her world, that makes you his friend,_ a small hopeful voice in the back of her mind said. Hermione shuddered. She was glad that she wasn't Draco Malfoy's friend. Definitely glad.

When Hermione and Ron finally got to the Pitch, they found the Gryffindors and the Slytherins in a heated argument.

"I thought I saw a pig in a uniform, I didn't think it was you, Malfoy," Ron catcalled.

The teams turned to look at them and Malfoy looked smug as he posed in his Slytherin Quidditch uniform. There was a crooked smile that was trying to hold back from being a complete smile. A lift of the eyebrow. Hermione snorted. Malfoy was in his egotistical element and he was loving every minute of the conflict that surrounded him.

"Jealous?"

"Hardly," Ron said nonchalantly, "Of course, you've been jealous of Harry since we started, I didn't think that you actually wanted to be him now. I bet you're a Seeker as well."

Malfoy chuckled, "It was the only available position on the team. It is not my fault if I was the only adequate enough flier."

"Sure, I wonder how adequate you'll be when Harry outflies you," Ron said with a smirk.

"I wouldn't be so sure," a horrible Slytherin Hermione was sure who was called Marcus Flint said. He tossed a black broom handle from one hand to the other casually. The golden lettering on the handle glinted in the morning sun to reveal that the identical brooms that each Slytherin were holding were a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_. Hermione didn't need to be a broom expert like Ron to know that it this was a big thing. Harry had a _Nimbus Two Thousand_. The lack of " _And One_ " was ominous.

"How did you get those?" Ron hissed, "Those aren't even on the market yet."

"My father knows the right people," Malfoy said, "So, Weasley, I wonder who will outfly who? I know the fastest broom on the market was the Nimbus Two Thousand, but according to reviews from seven different and reliable periodicals, the Nimbus Two Thousand and One is set to be the fastest one yet."

"Broomsticks only fly, Malfoy, you can't outfly talent," Hermione said whilst narrowing her eyes. There was nothing Hermione hated more than Malfoy bragging about how rich he was, or how superior he was. Again.

Malfoy glared at her.

"What do you know about Quidditch? You are only a filthy little Mudblood."

If Malfoy wanted a reaction he certainly got one. Fred and George needed to be restrained from hitting Malfoy and possibly breaking his nose. Angelina, Katie and Alicia started screaming and cussing enough to make a sailor blush. Ron reached into his pocket and of Hermione hadn't been with Lacie for the past year she wouldn't have noticed it. She put a hand on Ron's arm. He was going to curse Malfoy, or something like that.

"Don't."

"But...!"

"It's my fight. Let me fight it," Hermione said softy before turning towards Malfoy and saying with the most deadpan voice she could muster, "Oh, how _original_ Malfoy."

The Slytherins, who had formed a safety circle around Malfoy, stopped cackling and turned to gape at her and the familiar look of perpetual confusion graced their faces. The Gryffindors looked as equally as confused.

 _Do not let them break you._ If Lacie was going to give her a parting message, Hermione was positive that she was going to let it be that. She wasn't going to let Malfoy humiliate her the same way that Lauren had done.

"I would have thought that you would have come up with something new by now," Hermione said with a nonchalant tone, and with a small shrug of the shoulders, "I guess not."

A brusque older Slytherin shoved Malfoy in the shoulder to say something else, but when he couldn't say anything in response, he flushed a bright pink and muttered, "Shut up, know-it-all."

Hermione laughed and said, "I'm glad you know it, Malfoy." She turned away and, then adding with a smile as she turned around again to add, "I do hope Mr Malfoy does forgive you for allowing yourself to be beaten by a Mudblood as _repulsive_ as I am in every exam."

With that, she skipped all the way to Hagrid's Hut regardless of who was following her, or the Slytherins response to her final words. Whilst being self-deprecating, Hermione had proven that insults were just words. Hermione didn't mind how many times that Draco called her a Mudblood but when it affected people around her like how Ron was about to curse Draco, she needed to step in. The look on Draco's face as she retaliated to his offensive remark was also worth insulting herself.

Hermione turned around to see Harry and Ron bounding over in a fit of laughter.

"You. Were. Brilliant." Ron paused between words to emphasise his delight. "You should have seen his face when you left."

"Wasn't he stuttering a little as well?" Harry asked Ron with a hint of glee, "I-I-I... You-you... Obnoxious, you don't know your place."

Ron laughed as Harry imitated Malfoy. Clearly to them, despite their fancy broomsticks this victory was more worthwhile.

"More like he doesn't know his place," Ron said. "If he was like that when Hermione finished with him, imagine when what he'll be like when you've finished with him, Harry."

"Harry, if there's anything you can do, you have to beat him in the game. I couldn't stand it if those smarmy Slytherins win because of their expensive broomsticks, Hermione said. "I couldn't stand it if they pulled ahead for the House cup either."

Harry shook his head with mock disappointment in their lack of sportsmanship as he rapped on Hagrid's door. Hermione knew that smile. He was worried that he wouldn't live up to their expectation of him and he would disappoint Gryffindor if he lost. He was also scared of the brooms. Last year, he had had the best broom on the market, now he had the second best.

"Harry, brooms only help you fly. It's the person on the broom that counts," Hermione said.

Harry looked at her as if he was oozing with confidence, "I know that Hermione."

Hermione knew that he was faking his bravery because as soon as Ron was speaking to Hagrid in a loud tone, Harry said in a whisper, "Thanks."

"And Hagrid, you will not believe what just happened with Malfoy…"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron recounted his version of what had happened.

x-x-x-x-x

Ron's arm was aching as he polished the trophies in the trophy room. The git, Filch, wasn't pleased with his progress and it felt as if it took him half an hour to get through a single trophy. It wasn't _his_ fault though, seeing as Filch demanded a trophy so shiny that if reflected off sunlight it would burn. Ron felt like growling at him. Git. As the night wore on and he was polishing the fifth Quidditch trophy, the time was getting longer and it was taking longer for Filch's satisfaction.

Ron didn't seem to understand this type of menial punishment. Ron supposed it could be worse, he wasn't answering fan mail with Harry. Ron chuckled. As repugnant as Filch was, better him than the arrogance of Lockhart. Ron made a disgusted noise. Lockhart. He didn't know why Hermione adored him so much. Maybe it was the fact that he was an idiot and secretly everyone pitied him. Like Neville. Ron liked Neville mostly because he felt sorry for him. He seemed to always to be alone, even if he was talking to someone.

It was getting later and later and Ron was really tired by the time he reached the Special Awards for Services to the School awards. He snickered at some of the names. Elyfrindeth Valdestralive was very unfortunate boy, to begin with, Ron couldn't imagine being three and having to spell a name like that. He supposed it was a lot more interesting than John Smith or Tom Riddle. He wondered what Elyfrindeth, John or Tom had done in order to gain their awards and earn them a place of permanence in the Hogwarts Trophy Room. When Filch was still not impressed with the state of the Services trophies, he started playing a new game. He tried to spell his name with each individual name. The furthest he got was with _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ , where he could spell, _I am Ro-…_

Ron started yawning loudly, and after one of the loudest yawns that Ron would hope never to make, Filch snarled and sent him to bed. Finally, Ron's aching arms sighed with relief as they hung limply by his side. He could barely open the door to the dormitory and when he did, he realised that he wasn't the only one awake as Harry sat, cross-legged on the floor with a pensive expression – like the one he had had when he had come back from being warned away the Mirror of Erised.

"Mate, what's up with _you?_ "

"Ron, I think I'm going crazy."

And when your best friend says something like that, how can you react, apart from, "Grow a pair, Harry. I bet it isn't anything."?

He snorted and wiped his nose, only to feel intense pain from his arms.

No one said karma was pleasant.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for updating a day late (I do try and stick to my Tuesday and Friday schedule but life just gets in the way sometimes)._

 _I actually finished writing this story, and I'm blasting my way through the third instalment. The main reason why I took this story down to edit was to (1) shorten some of the chapters from 6k words to 3-4k, makes it easier to read it guess?; (2) add more POVs, I love writing in Draco's POV especially later on in the story - this story is probably mostly Hermione POV, then Draco, then Lacie and rest of the characters; and (3) for it to fit in better with how I've ended the story._

 _If you haven't yet read Bright Star for more context, Lauren is Hermione's childhood bully._

 _CS._


	5. Interlude I

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling.**

* * *

 **Interlude I**

* * *

But I,  
Deeper than those weird doubts could reach me, lay  
Quite sundered from the moving Universe.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, from 'The Princess'

* * *

Dear Lacie,

It's not fair! I get a quill ready and a fresh piece of parchment and then I realise that I can't write to you at all but I have to write or else I'll go insane. It doesn't help that Harry and Ron are being unhelpful and they're not you. They don't understand if I'm unhappy or upset, or bored. All they talk about is Quidditch, which I know you enjoy, but at least we have something else to talk about. Like Professor Lockhart. He is so dreamy, it's like he shouldn't even be a teacher. I can't learn anything because his smile is so distracting so I have to do a lot of extra reading to catch up on the subject. Even reading his books gets me so distracted on his smile (and it doesn't help that there are so many moving photographs of him in it).

I know I'll never send this letter and you'll probably never read it, but pretending that I'm writing to you has already made my day better. I should do this more often, with or without you. At least I can concentrate this year in History of Magic (99/102 marks, I blame you for the loss of three marks!)

Your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

I hate being compared with my brothers by all of my teachers. I mean, I can't help it if I'm not as clever as Bill, Percy, Fred and George (Fred and George don't even act clever but at Transfiguration, Charms and Potions they're top of the class). Ron gets help from Hermione so he doesn't count _really_ , but when Professor Flitwick saw me playing chess, he asked me if I was good as "best-played-game-of-chess, Ronald". At flying lessons, everyone expected me to be able to fly immediately because Charlie was a Quidditch captain and Fred and George are on the team. It's like I can't even make a name for myself having so many in my family doing it before. If the Sorting Hat didn't know who I was, it would have probably put me into Hufflepuff for all the things I am.

 _At least you have a family. I don't know who my parents are._

Oh, Tom! I'm sorry! I forgot that you grew up in an orphanage! It must be so horrible for me to complain all the time and you're trapped in the diary. I wish you were here in real life. You're my best friend here. With you, I don't feel as lonely, especially since my brothers all force me away.

 _I will never leave you, Ginny you know that!_

Thank you, Tom. I really needed that.

x-x-x-x-x

I saw him again today. He was walking down the corridor with my brother and his other best friend, Hermione Granger.

 _Who's Hermione?_

She's this really clever girl that everyone in the year likes, even some Slytherins like her for because she's clever and that's it. She's not that pretty, with all her fizzy hair and big teeth (she looks a bit like a beaver!) But she's the only girl that Harry will confide in, which is silly because she's not even his friend, she's just tagging around because she has no one to talk to because everyone else only wants homework help off her.

 _Harry is the one you like?_

Yes! He's so cute, especially his green eyes. Apparently they're an exact copy of his mother's. My dad always says that Harry is an image of his father, but except for the eyes.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Lacie,

I think I'm in love.

Well, not in love per se, I just… I may have a small, insignificant infatuation with Professor Lockhart. Is that normal? I just look forward to his lessons more than anything, and he praises me when I know something, and even though he set a cage of Cornish Pixies on the class and left Harry, Ron and me to fix the problem, I can't help but have this small crush on my Professor.

Ron saw my timetable that I may or may not have adorned with love hearts, but that's harmless.

I wish you were so you could see for yourself what I mean, you're missing out on so much. Lockhart adores Harry too, fame being a fickle friend and everything, and there is nothing more entertaining than Harry having to re-enact all the great things that he did and wrote about.

Your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

I hate **her**!

 _Who?_

Hermione! Whenever Harry is around her, its like she tries to take all of his attention. Before at dinner she was talking to Ron and then Harry looked me as I passed and smiled, and then Hermione smiled at me and then said something to Harry that made him look away. Then Ron, my own brother, told me to get lost and I had to go! If it weren't for Hermione distracting Harry I would have been allowed to stay and look at him longer! I had to go and sit further down the table where I couldn't almost see him. Urgh! I can't stand her. She deliberately talks about homework or something stupid and get his attention!

 _She sounds horrible_.

Sometimes she'll start talking about Lacie, and then Ron and Harry get distracted. It isn't _my_ fault that Hermione is so lonely because her best friend left her alone at Hogwarts so I don't understand why it's my problem and why she feels the need to distract Harry.

 _Who's Lacie? I can't believe someone as awful as Hermione having a best friend._

I know, Tom. I completely agree with you. Lacie was this girl who was in Gryffindor last year, but according to Ron she was forced to go to a school in France because of her father. Ron said that she was snotty but he didn't stop talking about how pretty she was as well (I'm sure Ron fancies her) and she does ballet. Apparently she was clever as well like Hermione, but she lost loads of points for Gryffindor last year, so I don't see why people like her. I bet Harry does because she's all pretty and does ballet and is clever. I haven't met her and I don't like her already. Her father is a piece of work as well. I don't like Lucius Malfoy.

 _Malfoy? I've heard that name before._

Really? I suppose the Malfoys are quite famous, seeing as they're the biggest and most horrible liars in the world.

 _What did they do?_

Well, apparently they were Death Eaters, you know, the group of people who used to follow You-Know-Who and do what he wanted. Lucius Malfoy was apparently a bad Death Eater who said he was under the Imperius Curse, but Dad never believed that for a second. It was too coincidental that as soon as the Ministry announced that they were arresting those who were suspected of being Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy handed himself over as being under the Curse and now he's living the high life as a Hogwarts Governor and an esteemed friend of the Minister for Magic.

 _Who's You-Know-Who?_

Tom, don't you know?

 _I've been stuck in a diary and people don't like to tell me things. They are scared of me._

How can anyone be scared of you? You're harmless and kind.

 _Thank you Ginny. Sometimes I get lonely as a diary and people don't speak to me all the time. Who is You-Know-Who?_

I can't really say, Tom!

 _Please, I wouldn't tell. I have no one else to tell._

Well… You-Know-Who was a Dark Wizard, and his real name was Voldemort. Twelve years ago, he tried to kill Harry Potter but he couldn't and the spell rebounded onto him and it ended his evil rule over everyone.

… _I see. Is this Harry Potter the Harry you write of?_

Yes, you see why I like him so much. He's so heroic! And according to Ron, Harry defeated You-Know-Who again last year!

 _Tell me more about Harry…_

x-x-x-x-x

Tom! I think there's something wrong with me! I keep blanking out, like something's happening. I felt it yesterday when I was walking down the corridor and talking to Colin and I could feel something trying to get inside my mind and I was fighting it until my head hurt. Percy said it was probably a headache, but it didn't feel like it! One minute I was walking with Colin and then the next I was dozing in History of Magic! I don't know what's happening but I can't tell Percy or he'll write to Mum and Mum will ask and she'll find out about you and I'll get in so much trouble because Dad has told me about diaries that write back, but they're evil ones, they're not like you!

 _Calm down Ginny, I'm sure you're fine. Don't fight the headaches. Tell me about your day, I can make you feel better._

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Lacie,

Today was really funny! Your brother saw me coming at one end of the corridor and he went bright red, and turned the other way to avoid me. It's because I humiliated him in front of all of his Slytherin teammates. (I _know_! I didn't know he was considering being on the team – Ron is convinced that he's jealous of Harry and all, but I can't believe that they'd let him be on the team. I mean, he's not even that good… I suppose he's the best Slytherin person but he's the Seeker and that is such a big responsibility!) His fault. He shouldn't have called me a Mudblood, again. (Again, I _know_. Well, leopards can't change their spots.) Seeing his face made me laugh.

What has been worrying me though, is Harry. He said that he'd been hearing voices. That's not a good thing in the Muggle world, and Ron said it wasn't a good thing in the Wizarding World either. I'm scared to go to the library in case Madam Pince would send me to Madam Pomfrey and then I would be questioned for my sanity, but there is no where else to look. I wish you were here, because you'd know. I know you would, considering all you do is listen to the walls at Hogwarts.

Your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

You will not believe what happened!

I'll start with the beginning, the Deathday party. It was horrible, like it felt like someone had just died there and then. It was not worth skipping the Halloween Feast for, but Harry had made a promise. So, we decided to go around 8 o'clock, and that was when Harry started hearing the voices. It was like Harry had gone into a trance, he was running, then stopping and then he was frantic. He was telling us that the voice was going to kill and he needed to stop it (and we all know that Harry has a severe hero complex). So, naturally, Ron and I followed him. We had to! He was pressing his ears against the wall one second and then looking into space the next.

Oh, by the way, Ron is terrified of spiders. We went to the second floor corridor, right by Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and we saw a line of spiders trailing to a crack in the window. I swear, Ron started clapping his hands and was about to wet himself. It was funny, to say the least.

So, we were on the second floor corridor, and then the floor was wet, probably Moaning Myrtle being her usual self, and Peeves didn't help at all at the Deathday Party (she is so annoying though!) and then I looked into the distance and saw something strange. Something was hanging off a torch bracket and I swear it didn't look good at all. Harry saw it and ran towards it, he was half-panicking and half-relieved, panicking because he was about to confront the source of the voice and relieved that he had found it.

Lacie, it was bad. It was really bad. We shouldn't have been there.

Mrs Norris was hanging off the torch bracket, all stiff and horrible. Like she'd been killed and the but into a freezer and then placed there. If I had ate that night (Deathday parties don't cater for the living) I would have thrown it up all over the floor. That was not the worst though. Above Mrs Norris' frozen body was something written in blood.

" _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened.  
Enemies of the Heir beware."_

Then it was like a siren had gone off around us, and everyone in the school appeared in that corridor. They stood around it like it was a show and we were the main event. Of course, your brilliant brother told us that the Heir was after Muggleborns, as he usually does, but the worst thing was when Filch arrived.

Lacie, there is no worse feeling than being called a bare-faced liar and a murderer when you know with every fibre of your being that you're not. It's not like being called a cheat when you glance at someone else's test. It was serious and there seemed nothing to convince Filch otherwise that we were innocent.

However, Dumbledore was able to do that in a minute when he arrived. He took one look at Mrs Norris and realised that we couldn't have possibly had anything to do with it. In fact, after a short, concise examination, he told us (Filch and some Professors too) that Mrs Norris had been Petrified. At that point, I realised that it couldn't be us, because it takes a lot of Dark Magic to petrify someone. Dumbledore explained that to Filch, but then Snape demanded to know where we had been during the duration of the Feast. He wasn't helping at all, to be honest. I know he's your _Uncle Sev_ but he could have tried to make us seem like Dark Wizards. He was pushing Harry to tell him the truth about what had happened, like he knew there was something wrong and he threatened Harry to tell him the truth. Except, Harry couldn't exactly tell him about the voice. He should have, but it was weird the way that the voice was following some sort of route to kill something and Mrs Norris was there, seemingly dead (but thankfully not).

Thank Goodness Professor McGonagall was there, who just told us to go to bed, and not to speak to anyone about what had happened to avoid trouble of any sort.

So we did and here we are. Parvati is giving me some strange looks from across the dormitory for being up so late writing. She must think I'm doing homework or something.

Anyway, your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Something bad happened today.

 _What?_

Mrs Norris was attacked. I… I don't even know how to write it, but I can only vaguely remember it. Colin told me I was there when the whole school saw her hanging off a torch bracket, but I can't remember it. Why can't I remember it? I remember having another headache, so I took your advice and then decided to ignore it and then that's where I can't remember anything else. Tom. I'm scared. My hands are shaking. Why are my hands shaking? And they smell horrible and there's brown stuff under my nails. It's… what?

 _What? What's wrong Ginny?_

Nothing. Gina Debassio just told me there were chicken feathers in my hair. Why would there be chicken feathers in my hair? Tom, did I do something bad? I just looked at my robes and they're torn and there's blood on the inside of them. Tom, I'm scared. I can't tell anyone else. Please help me.

 _Ginny, you should calm down. I'm your best friend… just tell me how you feel right now…_

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

I was thinking: what on earth is the Chamber of Secrets? I don't even remember reading about it at all in _Hogwarts: A History_ and I couldn't fit my copy into my trunk this year because of Lockhart's books. It mustn't be a good thing, because your brother was adamant that Muggleborns were in impending danger from the opening of the Chamber. Your brother probably knows.

Hermione.

PS. There's a two-week waiting list on _Hogwarts: A History._ I guess that people were all thinking the same thing that I was.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

You will not believe what the Chamber of Secrets is! It's a horrible little chamber that was built by Slytherin where his Heirs could have little tea parties with the monster he put in there to "purge" the school of Muggleborns! That's just… awful! It also made me think about what your brother said last night, about Muggleborns being next. Would the Heir of Slytherin _really_ get rid of all the Muggleborns in the school?

Ron's adamant that Draco is the Heir but I don't think that he has the guts to do something so horrific as what was done at Halloween. He knows _something,_ I know that for a matter of fact but I don't know what exactly. Then again, he might not know anything at all, and if he did, he probably wouldn't tell _us_.

I have an idea! It's too risky to put it down in writing, but I have one! Oh, but it would be breaking _so_ many rules! But, I'm a Muggleborn and I could be next so anything I do could be helping. Yes, I'll do it, I just need to tell Harry and Ron.

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Zjart,

He will not budge.

N.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Nemesis,

I have a friend, it has been arranged for January.

Z.

x-x-x-x-x

N.

It is open. I was right about him.

Z.

x-x-x-x-x

Z.

It cannot be true! He is acting normal, writing to his children regularly, going to work and being excited to spectate for Draco's first match! Z, I will refuse to believe it.

N.

* * *

 _A/N: I will be back with a "real" chapter come Friday. Enjoy!_

 _CS._


	6. The Form Remains

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: The Form Remains, the Function Never Dies**

* * *

 _"To live, and act, and serve the future hour;_  
 _And if, as toward the silent tomb we go,_  
 _Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower,_  
 _We feel that we are greater than we know."_

Alfred Lord Tennyson from _After-Thought_

* * *

Draco knew the question that all the teachers were dreading on Monday. He had written to Father and asked him the same question only to receive a short reply. By Monday, Draco wanted answers. He was not going to get them from Professor Binns who only seemed content with boring them with useless dates and rebellions of species he did not really care for. His Slytherin classmates also seemed to be bored into a lethargic state that would stop them from asking the Professor and Draco was not about to draw attention to himself, especially since Granger had humiliated him.

He hoped Father was right about the last time the Chamber was opened. He hoped a Mudblood died. He wanted it to be Granger. Served her right, the no-class know-it-all. Draco ordered the waves of guilt to recede. He would not feel guilty for feeling that it should be so.

It was not until Transfiguration, after seeing people buzzing with information at break, before Pansy (on Draco's suggestion) bullied Theo into asking Professor McGonagall. Theo cast a resentful look at Draco who was sat next to him, and if not for Theo's burgeoning infatuation for Pansy, then he would not have interrupted the Professor as she wrote on the board. She turned, tight-lipped and looked at him.

"Yes, Mr Nott? Is there a problem?"

"Professor," he chose his words carefully as the Professor was also the Gryffindor Head of House, the diametric opposition to his own, "I was wondering if you could tell us about the Chamber of Secrets."

"I would have thought that a class such as your own would have found out by now, my first two classes asked me the moment they entered," McGonagall said and she looked at something at her desk. She smirked to herself, as seeing that she had the entire Slytherin class staring at her, with desperation written on their faces, she relented and walked around her desk and leant against it.

"The Chamber of Secrets is a secret chamber - …"

"Figured out that much for myself, Professor," Blaise said aloud with a snort. Professor McGonagall looked at him with annoyance.

"Mr Zabini, if you have a problem with way I am answering Mr Nott, then say so, because I will continue my lesson as planned, and I doubt Professor Snape will be happy to disturb his lesson to tell you."

Draco, along with his classmates swivelled around to openly glare at Blaise. Blaise went red with embarrassment and muttered, "Sorry Professor."

"I shall start again. The Chamber of Secrets is a secret chamber, which according to legend, Slytherin built before he left Hogwarts.

"As all of you know, Hogwarts was founded by the four greatest witches and wizards of all time: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. After years of harmony, Slytherin decided that they should be more selective and choose certain types of wizards - …"

"Purebloods," Draco interjected.

"Correct, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall replied with a grim expression, "However, this caused a rift between the Founders and caused Slytherin to part with the notion that his Heir would return to purge the school of those he deemed unworthy."

Draco did not want to say it out loud, but he knew what the Professor had meant by the people that were unworthy to be studying at Hogwarts. He said it often enough.

"How would the Heir purge those who were unworthy?" Daphne asked out loud.

"Again, according to legend, a monster that only the Heir of Slytherin could control would be unleashed from the chamber."

"But, how could you hide a monster like that in Hogwarts?"

Draco snickered. Of course they could. Draco could vaguely remember that Lacie had come across a Cerberus in school, and they could not forget the troll of the previous Halloween.

"Mr Nott, this is merely speculation. What I'm telling you is not purely fact, the lore of the Chamber of Secrets has been mentioned in history and is highly inconclusive, especially that awful poem written about the Founders."

 _Except for the fact it is true and she is frightened of what the opened chamber might mean,_ Draco thought to himself whilst biting on his lip. Theo turned to him and gave him a look of curiosity. Theo had been another one who had been always able to read Draco like a book, and vice versa. Draco shook his head and Theo looked away. He gave the impression that Draco would have to tell him later.

"Now, I would like to return to my lesson, in order to finish the syllabus in preparation of your exams in the summer."

Draco groaned at the thought. He knew Granger would come top once more. At least Lacie would not be here to try and beat him in every exam, only for them to be equals in everything. McGonagall stood up and walked back to the chalkboard and started writing again.

"No wonder the school thinks someone we know did it," Pansy whispered loud enough for those around her could hear. Draco didn't even bother lifting his head to acknowledge she had said something. Theo glanced in her direction before turning to her and asking, "Why?"

"Because, _Theodore_ , it is Slytherin's monster. Of course we would be the guilty ones, not a perfect Gryffindor. If I could pick someone to get attacked first it would be that Hermione Granger. Merlin, I wish I would write a to-do list for the Heir."

"Do you ever think before you speak?" Daphne hissed at her, oddly echoing what Draco was thinking. If Pansy was going to bash one of McGonagall's favourite students in her class, the least she could do was keep to herself, or even under her breath.

"It is not like I know who is doing it," Pansy sighed. "Shame that Potter is a half-blood, or he should be next as well, what do you think, Draco?"

He did not know if she was genuinely that stupid to say something like that aloud, or if she was trying to win his affections and thought that was honestly the best route to take at that precise moment. However, Draco did not respond, as he was too engrossed in what the Professor was writing on her blackboard. Draco noticed that the Professor had frozen in her writing before starting again, and making loud screeching noises as she did so. It was not said whether or not the Professor had heard them, but judging by the large amount of homework that she had set them for the next day, she had most likely heard every last word.

x-x-x-x-x

Before Hermione had time to process the incident at Halloween, a November chill had fallen around the castle and that meant only one thing, Quidditch. If there were anything keeping her from the library that wasn't extra research on the so-called Chamber of Secrets, it would be watching the first match of the year between Gryffindor and highly advantaged Slytherin on their flashy new broomsticks. Wood had driven Harry mad the previous night, informing Harry of different tactics to distract Malfoy, or ways to keep out of trouble on the pitch, and kept at Harry until he had driven the boy insane and he had retired to bed much earlier than normal.

Hermione felt her stomach knot itself, then relax, then knot itself once more. She could barely watch the match at all, even though she knew that Harry was an adept flier. There was something about the way that Malfoy was tailing him, and the sneaky little peeks that unnerved her. She knew that Malfoy had bought his way onto the team. She could see that Malfoy was nervous, it was his first match and he was against Harry, who was the best Seeker in Hogwarts (she wasn't being biased, he really was, no one had broken his record of winning a game in three minutes, yet) and Mr Malfoy was in the stands, watching Malfoy like a hawk.

For some reason, Hermione didn't like Mr Malfoy's presence on the Hogwarts Grounds, as if he had no right to be here spectating on his son's match. There was something so intrusive about how he was sitting there, talking as if one of the most terrible things hadn't happened lately. His concealed smile, which seemed to lurk on his lips, seemed to have a knowing feel about it. It seemed to know what happened and was relishing it for some reason. She looked away from the Staff stands. She was getting as bad as Ron, speculating about the Malfoy family. They had to be innocent, for Lacie's sake.

Malfoy seemed to stop from following Harry, and he was perched above the rest of the game watching the skies or somewhere. He caught Hermione's gaze, and Hermione could swear that his face went pink, before he raised an eyebrow and went whizzing off somewhere, and his attention was elsewhere. There was something about the way he flew that seemed sleeker than Harry. Hermione was sure that it was the broom, but he weaved between players, dropped milliseconds before Katie Bell could smash into him as if by magic. He had lost his target and was now flying around aimlessly. Broom or not, Malfoy was a good flyer, he wasn't as good as Harry, but Hermione hated to admit that he was still quite good.

"Harry's got himself a rogue Bludger!" Hagrid yelled, "That's illegal, that is!"

There was a horrible whooshing noise above her and Hermione looked up. She had completely lost herself in watching Malfoy that she had forgotten about Harry. A dark ball, also known as the Bludger, had taken flight and was resisting the Weasley twins' best efforts to keep it away from Harry. It was tailing Harry like a magnet.

"A rogue Bludger?" Ron whimpered as he followed it as it chased Harry. "Surely it isn't."

Hermione opened her mouth before Hagrid went on, "An' yer can't stop it, or yer'll hit another player, or worse, Harry. It's far too risky."

"Maybe it's being normal," Ron had gone extremely pale.

"I know a rogue Bludger when I see one, and lemme tell yer, when Dumbledore finds out who it was..."

"Can someone explain what a rogue Bludger is, or am I going to have to guess?" Hermione interrupted. She didn't like not knowing what something was, even though she wouldn't have thought twice about something about Quidditch, but seeing the looks on Hagrid and Ron's faces deemed it necessary for her ask what was wrong.

"It's a Bludger that has been tampered with," Ron explained and gulped, "Hagrid's right, Harry has got a rogue Bludger, those dirty, cheating rats!"

"You think that a Slytherin managed to enchant the Bludger to chase Harry?" Hermione said, crossing her arms, "I don't think so."

"How do you know?" Ron asked, looking at Hagrid as if Hermione was being terribly naive.

"First of all, they're too dumb to have pulled this off - ..."

"True - ..."

"Secondly, it would take some really advanced magic in order to overcome the magic in the Bludger, I mean, if it was so easy, why aren't both the Bludgers chasing Harry? Why isn't the Snitch just flying into Malfoy's hand? You might as well, _accio_ the silly thing!"

Hermione knew that she lost Ron at accio, but that didn't matter. Ron seemed to think about what Hermione said carefully before saying, "Fine, let's say it wasn't a Slytherin, but who - ...?"

"Don't yer even think about sayin' it's Snape, I don't think I could go through that again," Hagrid moaned.

"I was thinking Mr Malfoy," Hermione whispered, after huddling closer to Ron and Hagrid.

"Malfoy's dad?" Ron muttered, looking over at the teacher's stand where Mr Malfoy and Snape were engrossed in a conversation, "Why him?"

"There's something strange about him, I mean, first Malfoy tells us that Muggleborns need to be careful and Lacie's gone, surely -..."

"Codswallop," Hagrid said simply. "Remember las' year? You can't keep goin' around suspectin' people. Yer kids! Do kids things and leave the serious things for the adul's."

"But -..."

"Oh look, Harry's gotten hit! Ow, that gonna hur' in the mornin'!"

Hermione and Ron didn't say much more as they rushed from the stands to try and help Harry, but it wasn't the last they thought of it. Whilst they were running to the pitch, Harry had just snagged the Snitch out of Malfoy's grip, or so excitable Gryffindors told them after the match whilst in the Common Room. Harry had fallen onto the pitch, and was unconscious.

As Hermione shot a spell at the Bludger she thought she could see Mr Malfoy look anxious in her peripheral vision. When the Bludger tore apart, and bits of iron dust flew into the air Hermione stared into the stands, and saw Mr Malfoy still talking to Snape and Hermione knew that seeing him looking anxious was a figment of her imagination. Something seemed out of place as she looked away. There was something else that she was missing but she couldn't put her finger on it.

However, with the excitement of Harry actually catching the Snitch and with the painless removal of all of the bones in his right arm, it was soon forgotten, especially as Hermione was trying to stop Fred and George dropping Harry as they carried him like a champion to the Hospital Wing.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione was with Ron when Harry found them on the Transfiguration courtyard, as they were fervently discussing the homework that McGonagall had just set before break time. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile as he approached and cleared a seat for him.

"How's the arm?" Hermione asked carefully.

Harry responded by moving his arm about, and extending his fingers and giving them a wiggle, "Is it strange that it hurt less when there weren't any bones in my arm?"

Hermione resisted the urge to giggle, knowing that Ron would reprimand her for supporting Lockhart, despite his complete failure to heal Harry. Whilst Hermione agreed with this, she still dug deep and could still reply that technically Lockhart had removed all the pain in Harry's arm. She had to dig really deep for that explanation. She didn't ask further, and she didn't have to as Ron changed the subject.

"Did you hear?" Ron asked. "About Colin?"

"I was awake when they brought him into the Hospital Wing, apparently he was trying to visit me when he was attacked."

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione started but he stopped her from saying anything else as he sat down next to her. Hermione knew that Harry was blaming himself a little from Colin's Petrification. "You shouldn't blame yourself, Harry, blame the person who put you in the Hospital Wing in the first place."

Harry looked at her with a small smile, but she bet that it didn't comfort him much.

"Do you know what attacked him?"

"No, but Dumbledore doesn't seem to know either," Harry replied, "All I know is that the teachers are lying when they are saying that the Chamber of Secrets doesn't exist, they know that it exists and it's been open before. They didn't do anything to protect a single student even they knew the threat was real, and if they had done something sooner…maybe, Colin…"

"Look, what could the teachers have us do?" Hermione said, putting a hand on Harry's arm. "Be walked class to class? Watch us more diligently? Make sure there's a head count and a curfew and hope that wouldn't incite panic? As long as Dumbledore is here and is watching us, then we're safe."

For the second time, Harry didn't seem too convinced at her words.

"Look, Harry, I bet it was Mr Malfoy who set the Rogue Bludger on you, probably wanted Malfoy to win and when Malfoy junior didn't succeed, he took his temper out on Colin," Ron said with a scowl. "You know the Malfoy temper."

Hermione knew all too well. She remembered the shredded ballet costumes and the many times she had to repair her homework when Lacie had an argument with Ron and desperately needed to rip something in half. She didn't have to remember the encounter that she had overheard in Malfoy Manor before her abrupt departure to be well aware of the Malfoy temper.

"It wasn't Mr Malfoy controlling the Rogue Bludger," Harry said, averting his gaze elsewhere. Hermione and Ron made exasperated noises. Hermione demanded for Harry to explain himself and Ron nudged Harry for his attention. "Sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Who was it?" Hermione asked, feeling an overwhelming rush of concern for Harry for some reason.

"It was the same person who stopped us getting onto the platform at the beginning of the year," Harry said slowly and pointedly to Ron. He didn't look at Hermione properly. "I forgot to tell you what happened over the summer."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I had a very strange visit from a creature, I think it was a house-elf."

"Called Dobby?" Hermione had said it in horror before even realising it.

"H-How did you…?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Hermione said. The expressions on Harry and Ron's faces indicated otherwise.

Hermione sighed, "I first met Dobby at Malfoy Manor…"

"Knew it!" Ron said loudly, causing some passing Ravenclaws to look at him disparagingly.

"Knew what?"

"When Harry told me about the House-Elf, I told him that only rich families had one, like the Malfoys," Ron explained. "I bet the Malfoys sent Dobby to spook Harry out of coming back or told him to sabotage the Gryffindor match, after all, the Malfoys _are_ his master."

Hermione pulled a face. She didn't feel as if Dobby was acting on the behalf of the Malfoys. There was that horrible nagging feeling in the back of her mind as if she was missing something. "Well, think about it, if Dobby knew what was going to happen this year and told you to stay away, it isn't exactly a bad thing, is it?"

"Unless Dobby was trying to keep Harry away, so he couldn't help."

"Or meddle."

"No, I don't think…"

"Just because he's Lacie's…"

"It's not that," Hermione insisted, she remembered something quite vividly for a moment that she almost slid off the bench.

"What is it?" Harry asked, holding onto Hermione's arm. Hermione stared at it for a moment before shuddering a little.

"Say Dobby was instructed to keep you away from Hogwarts, and the Bludger was a way to get you injured enough for you to leave Hogwarts, what would that achieve, aside from keeping you safe from everything that's happening at Hogwarts?"

"You're saying that a Malfoy house-elf is trying to protect me? Why?"

"All I know is that when I was at Malfoy Manor, Dobby left the grounds and deliberately disobeyed his Masters," Hermione said grimly, "Believe me when I say it, you _really_ do not want to know why I know this."

The pair remained silent for a moment and Hermione knew that they desperately wanted to know, but they knew better than to ask, or even beg.

"So if it isn't Malfoy…" Harry started.

"Nah, he has got to be involved with it," Ron muttered, "has to."

"Why's that?" Hermione asked.

"There's something about him, even if he isn't the Heir, he knows something." He said this as a group of second-year Slytherins walked past them without their ringleader. Harry and Ron glared at them, a glare that was happily reflected back to them by most of them. Hermione caught Nott's raised eyebrow and Zabini's smirk and wondered what they were thinking as they strolled past at the back.

"I agree, Hermione," Harry said as soon as the Slytherins were out of earshot, "Don't you remember his parting words, _you'll be next, Mudbloods_."

Hermione cringed at the word, and she hadn't forgotten Malfoy's taunt. She wasn't likely to forget it any time soon. She had thought that after the showdown between the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch players had deterred him from ever using the word again, but as usual in true Malfoy fashion he was going for the shock factor. There was something about what Harry had said that triggered a memory of some sort.

"I can almost hear the cogs in your head working, what is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, staring at her.

"Something that Malfoy said to me this year, I think, at the beginning of the year he told me to watch out, and remember Lacie's letter?"

Harry and Ron shook their heads, which was so typical of them. Hermione could recall every word that was on that worn piece of parchment that was locked in her bedside cupboard.

"She told you, Harry, to be careful because her father had to be planning something if he was sending her away because she was close to you, and Draco didn't have the same treatment because he isn't."

"So, Mr Malfoy must have something to do with it," Ron said, "Exactly what I've been saying this whole time."

"So what if he does? It's not like Malfoy is going to know, I spent a night over at their house and not once did Mr Malfoy seem like the type of father to call Malfoy into his study and tell him all about his plans," Hermione said.

"Still," Harry said, "It wouldn't hurt to ask."

There was a pause.

"Hermione…" Ron began, "Aren't you close friends with Malfoy?"

"He's my best friend's brother," Hermione retorted. "Hardly what I would call close friends."

"Close enough," Ron shrugged. "Harry's close friends with Fred and George."

Harry looked at Ron for a moment to consider this, pulled a face and shrugged in agreement. Hermione sighed.

"What about it?"

"Well… couldn't you just _ask_ Malfoy if he was involved?" Ron asked.

Hermione chuckled dryly. "That would be the perfect conversation opener, ' _by the way, are you the Heir of Slytherin or just pally with him?'_ Come on, you two. I'm not a walking miracle, you know."

"Oh, well. _You_ think of a way to find out, I'm sick of not knowing what's going on," Harry said with the tone of a spoilt child who was denied of what he wanted. He rubbed his forehead instinctively and frowned. "I want Dobby to leave me alone, so I can walk around school feeling safe, for a change."

"Hadn't it already occurred to you that I already considered an option?" Hermione said with a small smile. She rubbed her hands together to warm them up slightly as a gust of wind blew their way, causing chills to go up Hermione.

"What?" Ron said loudly. "And you never said?!"

"Of course I didn't! We'd be breaking a hundred school rules, not to mention…"

"Been there," Harry said with a nonchalant expression.

"Done that," Ron quipped.

"Won the housepoints, saved the day, spent a week in the Hospital Wing to prove it," Harry finished. "What is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but the bell rang before she could detail them what her plan was. Thank Merlin.

* * *

 _A/N: I have always kind of wondered (a) how the Slytherins found out about the Chamber of Secrets, and (b) who told them. Can you imagine if Snape had broke the news?  
_

 _CS._


	7. Civic Slander and the Spite

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Civic Slander and the Spite**

* * *

 _'Ring out the want, the care the sin,_  
 _The faithless coldness of the times;_  
 _Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,_  
 _But ring the fuller minstrel in.'_

Alfred Lord Tennyson from _Ring in, Wild Bells_

* * *

"I hate him."

Hermione tutted. "Hate's a strong word."

"Not for him," the boy on Hermione's other side said, "Pretentious git."

"Stop being mean, the pair of you," Hermione snapped as she watched Lockhart twirl his wand to ultimately drop it, although with a little grace. Her heart swooned as he flashed a dazzling smile in her direction as he bent over to pick his wand up.

"Hermione, you have never been the Vampire, the Banshee or the Yeti. I doubt you can even call me mean, in fact I think I'm highly tolerant."

Hermione didn't want to say that Harry had a point. He had been perfectly tolerant. Sometimes during the Defence classes, Hermione saw Harry's face and almost volunteered herself for being the Vampire, the Banshee or the Yeti. She would have happily taken his spot, but she knew that if she tried, the other girls would do it. Next lesson Lavender would offer, or Parvati or Cheryl, and that was the problem. So Hermione watched as Harry suffered so that she didn't have to watch other girls in her House launch themselves at her favourite teacher.

Even though Harry was irritated with Hermione, he didn't hesitate to move towards Hermione when Snape had paired Ron with Neville. Snape upper lip curled. He looked as if he considered pairing them up for a moment before saying, "Luck's over, Potter." He called over Malfoy to be paired with Harry and subsequently paired Hermione with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione sighed as she looked over in Parkinson's direction.

Neither of the two girls was willing to move to each other. Parkinson gave her several pointed looks for Hermione to move towards her, which Hermione returned. There was no way Hermione was going to move to where Parkinson was standing.

That was until Professor Snape threatened to take ten points from Gryffindor if she didn't hurry up. Hermione growled for the entire journey across the hall, towards Parkinson's smug look. Hermione tried not to glower at her.

"I did not know you were an animal, Granger," Parkinson said with a smile that looked far too smug. Hermione resisted the urge to pull out her wand and hex the girl, so resorted to planting her hands firmly on her hips.

"Shut up, Parkinson."

"I would watch your Mudblood mouth."

"Call me that again, and I'll wash your mouth out." Hermione's hand went for her wand, and she held the end of it in preparation. Regardless of what they were supposed to be doing, disarming each other, they were stood ready for battle. Hermione had never disliked a girl more than Pansy Parkinson at that moment.

"I dare you, you are nothing more than a know-it-all, filthy Mudblood," she spat at Hermione, giving Hermione a little shove in the shoulder. Hermione moved back, pointed her wand at her and said with as much conviction in her voice,

" _Scourgify_!"

Hermione tried to resist snickering as bubbles foamed at her mouth, and as she spat them out, more formed in their place. Parkinson screamed in anger and launched herself at Hermione and the girls fell to the ground. Hermione, having recently fought with Lauren in that horrible experience in the summer, defended herself from Parkinson's punches and scratches with ease. Hermione tried kicking her off to no avail and they both rolled around, Hermione holding onto Parkinson's hair for dear life and Parkinson scrabbling, trying to leave a mark on Hermione.

There was a horrible electric shock that jolted through them that caused them to freeze for a moment and allow themselves to be pulled apart by Lockhart and Snape. Hermione was glad that Lockhart was the one restraining her, despite feeling as if all her energy was slowly being drained out of her. She didn't struggle as much, as she didn't want to hurt him. Parkinson, however, was fighting Snape and refused to stay still for one moment for a counter-charm to be performed on her. The more Parkinson fought, however, the quicker she seemed to subdue, as if she was also weakening.

"She started it!" Hermione shrieked across the Hall. She didn't care that everyone else were staring at her as if she was mad.

Parkinson finally had the counter-charm to Hermione's spell, and screamed back, "You deserved it! No wonder the Heir of Slytherin wants to get rid of your lot! You are all incorrigible!"

"I didn't know your troll brain was capable of words like incorrigible!" Hermione snorted loud enough for people to hear, and there was a ripple of laughter that was silenced with a glare from Snape.

"Detention, Miss Granger and ten points from Gryffindor for using this tutorial for resolving personal vendettas," Snape announced at her. Hermione couldn't feel anything else aside from the injustice that was happening in front of her. Had he not heard Parkinson? Was he condoning that horrible kind of opinion, that Muggleborns deserved to be attacked? Hermione tried not to insult the Professor, as he would most likely worsen the punishment she was to get.

"Ha! Take that, Mudblood!"

" _Silencio_ ," Snape said, cursing Parkinson instantaneously and he seemed to start shaking with anger. "For you, Miss Parkinson, a week's worth of detentions starting Monday and fifty points from Slytherin."

Parkinson gave him a look of desperation, and one of those looks that Ron gave Professor McGonagall when she took points of him for having his shirt untucked. It was the look from someone that questioned their Head of House if they were serious about taking points, especially fifty, from their own House and jeopardise their chances of winning the House Cup.

"I am deadly serious, Miss Parkinson, language like that is not tolerated in Hogwarts and I have heard you use it on three occasions in the space of half an hour." Snape turned around to face everyone else in the Great Hall, "If I hear another student using that word, I will inflict the same punishment. You have been warned." His gaze seemed to linger on Malfoy who had gone bright red. He went even redder when he made eye contact with Hermione and looked away promptly.

"What are you all standing there for? _Keep practising_."

Everyone seemed to bounce back, and that chattering resumed between pairs with spells misfiring. Parkinson wasn't able to speak, but she didn't look like she wanted to take part in the Duelling Club and disappeared within five minutes of the class resuming to normal.

As Hermione didn't have a partner anymore (the Professors deemed it unsafe for Hermione and Parkinson to engage in wand-to-wand combat again) she lingered on the fringes of duelling partners. She could feel the side of her head throbbing slightly and the room span a little around her. She steadied herself.

"Are you alright?" Nott, who was duelling Zabini, turned to look at her and as Hermione fell to the floor. Hermione felt her arms being pulled up against her will. There was a loud scream and Hermione was being hoisted up. Hermione could vaguely hear Lockhart assuring people he was going to sort something out, followed by Snape offering to do it himself. Then silence. A shout. Muffled noises.

Then Hermione felt herself being carried and that was the end of it all.

x-x-x-x-x

"This is bad."

Hermione opened a reluctant eye. She could smell the soothing scent of lavender around her and she just wanted to close her eyes again and fall asleep in the field. She felt a nudge to her arm.

"Hermione, tell Harry this is bad."

Hermione groaned as she sat up, and rubbed her eyes. It was one of those days where it was neither hot nor cold, and Hermione couldn't decide what she wanted to call it. It was warm with a gentle breeze, but that seemed too general a description, even though that's what it essentially was. They were sitting on a large picnic rug that Dean had produced from his trunk, as though by magic, in a clearing that Harry said he had encountered during Hermione's time in the Hospital Wing. When Hermione asked Harry how he found this quiet place, he shrugged and said that he had just encountered it and it seemed to seem right that he brought them here.

Damned faeries. They liked to play with wizards, and pull them into their lair. With the lavender and fluffy looking grass, it looked like a faerie place. She didn't complain though, it smelt heavenly and relaxing. Hermione lay back on the rug and sighed.

"Ron's right, it's bad."

"So I can talk to snakes, so what?" Harry exclaimed, his arms appeared in the air, as he too was lying down on the rug. "I bet other people can too."

"Other people like, Salazar Slytherin." Hermione said. "Not _everyone_ can talk to snakes, which is why this is so bad."

"Everyone is going to think _you're_ the Heir of Slytherin!"

"But I'm not," Harry said simply, whilst gazing at the sky. Birds flew over him and were reflected in his glasses.

"We know that, Harry, but…" Ron said, sitting up, "You weren't there. It looks like you were targeting Justin at the Duelling Club - …"

"Ron - …"

"Hermione, you fainted from that shock that Snape gave you to drag you off Parkinson, so you can't talk!"

Hermione was glad to be enlightened that after she woke in the Hospital Wing, that Snape had performed a hex on Hermione and Parkinson that would drain them of energy slowly until they would not have the strength to continue fighting each other, or anyone that would pull them apart. It was a spell reserved for fighting tomcats, Madam Pomfrey had complained. She pottered around Hermione, giving her extra pillows as her energy restored after a barrage of potions. Parkinson lay sulking in her bed, having been brought moments after Hermione had by some noble Ravenclaws. Hermione had reacted with mild surprise when she had realised that it had been Nott and Zabini to bring her to the Hospital Wing, maybe there were such thing as a redeemable Slytherin. She only wished that Snape could receive some form of telling off by Dumbledore for casting such a spell on her, a mere second-year. She knew it would never happen, though. She lay in the lavender and just enjoyed the unusually warm day.

What I was saying, and I believe you Harry, when you say that you were telling the snake to back off, but it sounded like - …"

"Like, what?"

"Like you wanted the snake to attack Justin, that you were telling it to attack Justin."

"But how can people assume that? They can't speak snake."

" _Parseltongue_ , Harry," Hermione corrected as she sat up.

"That, whatever, anyway, how can people say I was egging the snake on?" Harry demanded. His eyes were completely hidden behind the blue reflection of the sky he was staring at. "I didn't even know what a Parseltongue speaker was until yesterday!"

" _Parselmouth_."

"YES, HERMIONE, I GET IT!" Harry yelled, sitting up then standing up and stomping around. He stomped a while longer until he calmed down a little. "Surely I'm not related to Salazar Slytherin, because then I'd be… I'd be…"

"I…" Hermione stood up too, "It's was so long ago, I couldn't possibly say… even if you are the Heir of Slytherin, I know you haven't done anything, you wouldn't hurt Colin, even if he was annoying you by following you around and asking you for autographs, and everyone hated Mrs Norris, so it could have been anyone."

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better, that Colin and Mrs Norris irritated other people, so it couldn't possibly be me," Harry replied bitterly. "That completely takes the target off my back."

" _You are not a Son of Salazar."_

Hermione stood up and whipped around so fast in the direction of the voice that her head didn't process the change quick enough and she could see the clearing around her go round, and round and round…

"Who are you?" Ron said, he was suddenly at her side, his wand was raised, "Show yourself!"

"Lower your wand, boy," the voice said. There was a rustling noise. Hermione's hand dived into her pocket too. A head popped around from the shrubbery and stared straight at them. Ron's arm flew out in front of Hermione's chest and it pushed her back. Chivalry at its finest, and Hermione was momentarily flattered, but she could fight her own battles. She stepped around Ron's raised arm and stood beside him, wand at the ready.

"Who are you?" Ron asked in a cold voice.

"Mr Potter, we meet again…" the head produced a chest, muscular arms and then hooves.

"Do I know you?"

The centaur looked taken aback for a moment, and then a look of realisation struck his face. "It makes sense, you were unconscious… Miss Malfoy can explain for me… I am Firenze."

"How do you know Lacie?"

Centaur. Lacie. Hermione remembered traces of a conversation that she had with Lacie. _The Dark Lord was rumoured to be able to speak to snakes, apparently he's a descendant of Slytherin himself_ … Hermione tore herself away from her thoughts and the centaur was staring at her.

"She told you."

"Yes, but it makes no sense, why is it important?" Hermione said, she turned to Harry and Ron who both had narrowed their eyes at her. "Lacie promised this centaur not to tell you exactly what happened during detention in the Forbidden Forest."

"Which was?" Harry asked.

Hermione faltered and cast a glance at the centaur. His head was cocked to one side, interested in how it was unfolding. He didn't try and stop her from talking.

"Lacie said that that night when you fainted, You-Know-Who appeared…"

"I remember her telling us," Harry said anxiously as he sensed Hermione's hesitancy. "Hermione, just spit it out."

"He spoke in Parseltongue," Hermione said as quickly as possible.

For a moment, all they could hear was the wind pick up pace and bring the start of a winter chill across them. Harry had gone pale, and Ron was moving his gaze between Harry and Hermione as if there was an interesting game of tennis between them.

"You-Know-Who can speak to snakes too," Harry said slowly.

"Yes, apparently he was a descendant of Slytherin so that's why he can speak to snakes too, but why this is even related to you, Harry… I don't know, because…"

"It would mean that I'm related to the man who killed my family."

"But, _you're not_ ," Ron said. "If you were the Heir of Slytherin, you would be in Slytherin, and you're in Gryffindor… Harry there's no way…"

"Slytherin can speak to snakes, his descendant You-Know-Who can speak to snakes, and I can… if I'm not the Heir then why can I speak to snakes?"

"It is a stolen gift," Firenze said with contempt, "To all the descendants of Slytherin himself. Slytherin stole it from Asclepius, a friend of Chiron."

"So, I am right. I am the Heir..."

"No, child. You are not, you can speak to snakes because something happened during the night you survived, Mr Potter. I cannot say what, but, this particular gift resonates well with you."

"Resonates, what?" Harry asked.

"He means that the gift is compatible with you," Hermione hissed at Harry before turning towards the centaur, "But how? Surely that would be only so with Slytherin's children?"

"Asclepius is a son of Apollo."

"What has that got to do with anything?" Ron said loudly.

"You are a Weasley," Firenze stated.

"So?"

"You will know."

"Know what?"

"When the time is right, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, you will know."

"Know what?!" Harry shouted as Firenze took a step back.

"Miss Granger, open your mind, for not everything is logic and facts, believe more than what you read in books."

With that parting tone, he disappeared in the shrubbery from where he had come from. Harry stared at the bush for a moment before looking back at Hermione.

"Did any of that make sense?"

Hermione frowned, "Oddly enough, I think it did."

All this seemed to stem from the idea of the Greek Gods, a hobby that had been pursued by Malfoy for several months. No, he hadn't simply pursued it; he seemed obsessed with it and seemed to know a lot about the Mythology. Hermione knew that she had to go to the library and see what she could find out about them. Her first search would be for Apollo, and thanks to Malfoy, she knew what book to look for. However, there were more pressing matters than research, as Harry prompted her to tell them what she had planned in order to convince Malfoy to tell them everything they knew about the Heir of Slytherin.

"It's called the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione explained, "It's a potion that will alter our appearance to whoever we want, but it's complicated and will take about a month to brew."

"A month?" Harry asked incredulously.

"In the meantime," Hermione interrupted before Harry broke down further. "I'll swallow my pride and talk to Malfoy and see what he knows. Tomorrow, if it makes you feel any better."

Hermione doubted that he would feel any better, but at least he smiled briefly at her.

x-x-x-x-x

Today had been too much. Harry sighed.

He could speak to snakes, but he had never thought that had been a necessarily bad thing. He had always thought it was one of those magic quirks. Months after the first time he had ever set a snake loose, he had found out that he was a wizard and it made sense. Now, nothing was making sense.

Slytherin could speak to snakes too.

As much as that conversation in the faerie field had enlightened him, he wondered if his father could speak to snakes too. His father had been a Gryffindor as well, there was nothing odd about him being a Parselmouth and being in Gryffindor.

 _Except, the Sorting Hat never wanted to put you there_.

The voice at the back of his mind haunted him with this fact all the time, and as he stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, he could not push the thought that the Sorting Hat had seen something inherently Slytherin about him. _There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin_. There was something rotten about Harry and the Hat had seen it.

He hadn't touched a single student, though.

Normally he could sleep to the snores of the other boys in his dormitory to sleep but tonight was an exception, he could not sleep at all. He had always thought that he was a good wizard, and practiced good magic. He had somehow defeated the biggest threat to wizards whilst merely being an infant, but… what if that was because he was a Dark Wizard after all? Was he a snake amongst the lions, and when You-Know-Who came back to power he was ready and waiting to attack his housemates? Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he hadn't touched a single student, and he would never touch a single student. He closed his eyes.

 _You should have been Sorted into Slytherin, you're like all of them, they'll call you the singer of snakes…_

The thought of that name parading around Hogwarts haunted him as he reached the edge of sleep, and he stayed awake all night. He didn't sleep a wink in fear that slipping into the unconscious would bring out the Slytherin in him and he would attack someone.

x-x-x-x-x

It had been two weeks, no, sixteen days since the Duelling Club. Surely the rumours of Saint Potter being the Heir of Slytherin would have died down by now? Of course _not_ , it was so fresh in everyone's mind it was all people would talk about and it irked him.

"Draco?" a hand waved in front of his eyes as he glared across the Great Hall. Potter was inches close to falling asleep into his cereal, and Draco wanted to watch that fateful moment. The notion that the do-gooder of Hogwarts could be the Heir of Slytherin clearly was making him lose sleep. Clearly, he was too much of a do-gooder to be the Heir. The hand waved more persistently and blocked his field of vision. He turned towards the culprit and was not surprised. It was typical Pansy seeking his attention once again.

"What do you want?" Draco asked lazily, twirling his goblet around, turning his attention to the pumpkin juice threatening to spill out.

"Why do you keep staring at Granger?"

"Because he is in love with her," Theo supplied unhelpfully. Draco put his goblet down and glared across the table at him.

"I am _not_."

"Are too," Theo said, biting into his toast, "Where were you morning of your all-important Quidditch practise clash with Gryffindor?"

"Library."

"Granger's haunt."

Draco growled.

"Is it true? Do you love the Mudbl-…?"

"Do not call her that!"

"See?" Theo said with a smile. Theo did not know what was good for him, and he would have an earful later in the dormitories.

"No, I just do not want Slytherin to lose more points by Pansy doing something stupid and unnecessary," Draco turned to Pansy, "Do you want another week of scrubbing the dungeon floors?"

"N-No."

"Well good, I am only looking out for you," Draco said and regretted it immediately as Pansy threw herself at him, well as much as she could across the table. Theo raised an eyebrow.

Love. Draco wanted to laugh. He was supposedly in love with _that_. He wanted to be sick. Draco was sure that he did not love Granger in any way shape, form or manner and if he was or ever became so, he would throw himself off the Astronomy Tower.

"You may not love her now, but you do fancy her," Theo commented.

"Shut up," Draco said, throwing toast at him.

"Now, now, Draco, you wouldn't want to start a food fight, would you?" Draco glared at the source of the voice and it sent goose bumps all over him.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, staring at the table. He was also telepathically telling Theo to keep his big mouth shut.

"A chat."

"No thank you," Draco said, looking at Granger and drawing his lips back in a confident smile. He reached for his pumpkin juice. At hand reached over and pushed the goblet away from his reach.

"I wasn't asking."

Draco stared at her and raised his eyebrow, "If you think for one second - …"

"He was just going to go now," Theo said. Draco gave him a look that could kill. Theo looked amused for a moment before leaning across the table and whispering, "If you do not go, she would only make a show of you before grabbing you for a chat, I am only doing you a favour."

"Some favour," Draco hissed as he stood up to indulge Granger's whim. A hand grabbed onto his robe and Draco looked down upon it.

"Please stay, Drakey-Drake!"

Now _that_ sent goose bumps all over him, but a different kind from when he had heard Granger's voice at his table. These goose bumps were like the ones one got after being violently sick.

"So, er… Drakey-Drake…?" Granger started as soon as they were out of the Great Hall. Draco pushed Granger into the nearest wall and pinned her there.

"Call me that, ever again, and I swear, Lacie's friend or not, I will kill you with my bare hands," Draco threatened with as much vehemence in his voice as he could.

"Fine, fine!" Granger shrugged his arms off and Draco was glad to see that she looked slightly worried for herself. She regarded him at an angle and assessed his temper for a moment. Draco breathed quite heavily for a while to see if she was going to say something. She did not.

"What?"

"You're in Slytherin, right?"

Draco took a step back, his hand raised to his mouth in confusion and he looked at her. She looked deadly serious about her question. Draco looked down towards his silver and green tie and then back up at Granger.

"Are you being funny?"

"Your whole family have been in Slytherin, am I correct?"

"Is that what you wanted to ask?"

"Yes, have your whole family been in Slytherin?" she asked again.

"No."

" _Aside_ from Lacie."

"Well, then, yes. No, are we counting cousins, as well?"

"No, just Malfoys."

"Then, yes, aside from the twisted sense of humour that was Lacie's Sorting, everyone else has been in Slytherin house."

"Then wouldn't someone in your family know who the Heir of Slytherin was?" she inquired further, turning to face him. Draco sighed. Was she really asking him that in front of anyone to hear in the Entrance Hall? He grabbed her arm and pulled here into a quieter part of the Entrance Hall.

"Even if I did, Granger, you would be the last person I would tell."

It came out as a growl and Granger's eyes widened to Draco's shock. She wrenched her arm out of his grip and wiped the sleeve of her robe down, as if Draco's touch had dirtied it. Draco tried to brush off annoyance, although the idea of thinking him dirty was laughable.

She glared at him. "Fine, I won't ask you about the Heir."

"Is that all?" Draco looked at her. He could tell by her expression that there was something else.

"Say, Malfoy…"

"What?" Draco said with an exasperated tone. He really did not have to do this. It was a Friday morning. He had better things to do on a Friday morning before lessons, namely to stay out of people's way.

"You believe that wizards are descendants of the Greek Gods, don't you?"

Draco sighed, "No, I do not."

"Don't you?"

"I _know_ wizards are descendants of the Greek Gods," Draco supplied for her with a sniff of arrogance. "Why? I thought you did not care."

"I don't, I was just curious…"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I was wondering if you would know who would be a descendant of a Greek God."

 _There it is…_ Draco knew that Granger would ask him sooner or later. It was only a matter of time.

"Like who?"

"Apollo."

Draco threw back his head and laughed to Granger's disgust before explaining, "Apollo is one of the Big Twelve."

"Big Twelve?" Granger asked, her big brown eyes looking completely lost.

"Do you not know? I was sure when you mentioned Apollo, who by the way is not as noble as say, _Artemis_ , you would have some sort of knowledge…"

"Well I don't know, and I don't want to," Granger said hotly, "Do you, or do you not know who a descendant of Apollo may be?"

Draco scoffed, he knew with every fibre of his being that the next time that he saw Granger would be in the library, with a smug look on her face, as if to say that she knew something that he did. Of course, he always would have something better.

"Maybe you should go to the library, Granger," Draco suggested with an airy voice. Granger opened her mouth to say something but Draco raised a hand to stop her, a move that his father often employed with his mother, "Now, I have breakfast to finish… although, I may not be able to stomach food after being so long near…"

Granger's eyes widened and blinked. She went bright red and started to fume, "I positively despise you, Malfoy!"

"I, really, could not care less," Malfoy said nonchalantly and turned away from her to return to the Great Hall with a wide grin on his face, his day looking brighter already.

 _Oh the joys of annoying Granger._

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for the lack of Lacie, she does exist, and will return very, very soon.  
_

 _CS._


	8. Stirring of the Blood

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Stirring of the Blood**

* * *

" _Self-blinded are you by your pride:  
Look up thro' night: the world is wide.  
This truth within thy mind rehearse,_  
 _That in a boundless universe_  
 _Is boundless better, boundless worse."_

Alfred Lord Tennyson from ' _The Two Voices'_

* * *

Draco did not expect Granger to be so dedicated to the cause that she would spend every waking moment that she had free in the library, with her nose almost touching the tome that Draco had once perused in front of her. He had watched her read it fervently, taking every page of the book deeply and imprinting it into her brain. Her passion for sourcing the information had distracted him from doing his homework in the library as he had caught himself staring at her. Thankfully, his companions did not notice how much he was looking at her, and even if they were, they were keeping awfully quiet about it. It did irritate him, however, how many times he had caught himself being distracted by her.

He had to know what was spinning in her mind, though. Her curiosity, in turn, had made him curious about what she had been curious about.

He bit the Snitch on a quiet Saturday morning and approached her as she was flicking through the tome.

"Penny?"

She looked up at him expectantly before her features fell into a frown. She went back to reading, "It's you."

For some reason, Draco did not like the tone of her voice, or the way she had regarded him and then passed him off as if he was merely an irksome fly. He pulled the seat next to her back, and sat down on it. He pulled the book she was reading towards him, and he read the bold title at the top of the page. _The Labours of Heracles._ He noticed after a moment she was pouting at him.

"If you wanted to read about heroes, surely Potter's very secret diary would suffice."

Granger snatched the book away before looking at the page, as if to note down what page she was on, and slammed it shut.

"Are you not capable of being kind at all?" she snapped, before shuffling her notes together and reaching for her bag.

"It would be harder for you to _despise_ me if I was kind, and that is my main goal in life," Draco replied with a smile. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Your father would be so proud, surely you have better things to do on a Saturday than to victimise Muggleborns, or am I a special case?"

Draco scoffed, "Hardly, but if I did not spend my Saturdays victimising said Muggleborns, I think I would get a Howler from Father."

A single 'ha' escaped Granger's lips, as if it was a sigh and she looked anything but humoured by his comment. She slammed her bag onto the table, tired of his presence already. She collected her notes and carefully placed them in her bag.

"I thought you were trying to read up on Apollo and his descendants."

"I got… distracted," Granger replied, "It's rather interesting, but I'm also confused. Surely every witch or wizard would be a descendant of the Goddess of Magic."

When Draco did not say anything in response to her, she reached for the book and flicked through it, and almost immediately reaching what she was searching for and pushed the book back towards him. _Hekate._ Draco smirked.

"If you had read carefully, you would have read that she was the source of witchcraft and wizardry," Draco said. Granger turned a slight pink. "She may have blessed all the descendants of the Greeks to have magic, or something. I am not too familiar with how it happened, and this particular book does little to explain."

Granger was staring at him, her eyes boring into him. What she was thinking, he will never know. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"What?" he asked.

"A stolen gift," she mumbled, as if solving a puzzle she had been pondering all week, "A source is not necessarily a descendant… that's it…"

Draco did not know what she was solving, but it seemed like he had given her a piece of a puzzle she was figuring out. She looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time during that conversation. There was something in what she was whispering to herself that both made sense but completely confused Draco.

"Well?"

She snapped out of her calculations and blinked several times at him. "This talk of descendants has really made me think about who may be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin…"

He cut her off before she could even finish her sentence, "Granger, despite the company that I was in, I was actually having a pleasant morning, why do you have to always ruin things?"

She stood up, her face turning bright red, "At what point did I ruin things? I didn't ask or want your company, Malfoy."

Draco stood up as well, feeling angry for even thinking that it had been a good idea to entertain having a proper conversation with Granger. He realised too late that she was no better than the people that he had been running away from that morning. The peace of absorbing in the stories of Greek heroes and Gods had dissipated. Again, he was in another conversation about the Heir of Slytherin, and to be honest, he was sick of it all. He could go the rest of his life without so much as someone uttering those three words and live a moderately pleasant life.

"You are all obsessed with thinking that _I_ know something about the Heir of Slytherin, you are worse than Pansy or Crabbe or Goyle, I thought you would be interested in something else." He pushed at the book before storming away from her.

Before he even managed to leave the library, however, he was tugged on the arm quite hard.

"Draco and Granger in the library… _K, I, S -_ …"

"If you value your life, Theodore, I would stop singing immediately."

Theo grinned at him, the toothy appearance of it on his face made Draco want to punch him. If Madam Pince were not looking at him in that hawk-like manner as she was always doing so, he would have done it then and there. "I wondered why you had snuck out so early on a Saturday morning, considering you do not have Quidditch practise."

"So you followed me? What a productive use of your morning."

"Yes, and knocking heads with Granger is clearly the better choice…" Theo said, sarcasm dripping in every syllable he spoke with. He mirrored Draco's glare before relenting and sighing. "I'm worried for you, you, more than everyone, know about keeping up appearances. It simply would not do for you to be meeting Granger in private, even if she is your sister's best friend."

As much as Draco did not heed life advice from Theo, he did have a point. The feathers of the prestigious pureblood families of Britain were still ruffled because of his sister, and as his father stressed heavily, it was up to Draco to restore faith in the Malfoy name.

"Yes, of course." Draco said curtly. "I did not know what I was thinking by lowering myself to spend time with her, she is a filthy _Mudblood_ after all."

Theo had paled slightly as Draco spoke, and soon he knew why. Draco was shoved rather forcefully into his friend, and the culprit disappeared around the corner in a huff of frizzy hair.

Draco did not even feel the slightest bit sorry, and that was a personal victory.

x-x-x-x-x

"What took you so long?"

Hermione fought back the anger and sadness swirling inside of her and threw her bag on the tiled floor. She didn't even look or acknowledge the person who was talking to her. She walked to the cubicle where the Polyjuice Potion was brewing and opened the door. She tried to not cringe at the foul smell that was emanating from the small cauldron.

"Hermione?"

She turned around and saw Harry looking at her with an expression of concern.

"Sorry, I was… I was in the library…"

Ron had walked up and stood next to Harry. The pair exchanged a look, and most likely a secret conversation. Hermione didn't know if she was grateful or annoyed that they didn't ask her to expand. If Lacie had been there, she would have pinned Hermione to the wall for information. Unfortunately, they weren't her perceptive best friend and they marked Hermione's absence to her being buried in some book in the library.

"So, is it nearly ready?"

Hermione shook her head, "The lacewing flies need at least another week to stew, and even if they were nearly ready, we don't have the ingredients from Snape's cupboard."

"About that…" Harry started.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the two boys, "Do not tell me that you're backing out now, because I did say at the start…"

"It's not that," Ron said, "Harry - …"

"It's a valid concern!" Harry said walking away and towards the sinks. He rested his palms against the edge of a sink and stared down the plughole. He took a deep breath and spoke as he stared at the sink. "I think Snape can read my thoughts."

Hermione's mouth fell open for a moment and she composed herself. "What?"

Harry looked at her, "Every time I fib, or am hiding something, he always knows that there is more to the story, like when I lied about the voices on Halloween, or in class when I'm thinking about who the Heir could be, he just _knows_ and I can't explain it any other way."

"Harry, you're surprisingly easy to read," Hermione assured, "If you didn't want people to know what you were thinking, maybe you should try and stop letting your emotions rule your judgment."

Harry laughed bitterly. "What? And become what Lacie was like at the beginning of last year, or worse, her brother? _Hi, my name is Draco Malfoy and I feel no empathy for anyone in this world because I have twisted daddy issues."_

Ron sniggered at Harry's impersonation. Hermione flinched at the name of the boy who had unfortunately lowered himself to sit with her in the library. It was a reaction that had not gone unnoticed by Harry or Ron.

"What happened?"

Even though part of Hermione had originally wanted the boys to ask her what had happened in the library, she thought better of it at that moment.

"I just want this all over with, so people like Draco Malfoy can get off their pureblood high horses."

"Then we better have a good plan for when we steal from Snape," Harry said, sighing deeply. Ron, on the other hand, smirked.

"I have an idea."

x-x-x-x-x

When Hermione strolled into her double period Potions, she could feel anxiety build up in her stomach. She had been saddled with the task of stealing the damned ingredients. If she was caught so much in that cupboard, she was sure to finish the year in a detention, but as Ron said, if it were he or Harry, they would be on the first train home. Furthermore, as the poster child of do-gooding, she was the least likely person to be caught doing anything wrong when the distraction occurred.

Ron had come up with the plan, and had done so that each of the Trio had a specific task and didn't know what the other two were responsible for. All Hermione knew was to get into position once the code word had been so much as whispered, so if Snape could read their thoughts, seconds would only pass between Snape realising and before they had started their mission.

To her left, the group of Slytherins had already assembled and were barely making a sound compared to the boisterous Gryffindors who were all engaged in chatter. Of course they were acting the darling angels for their Head of House, and being the antithesis of the Gryffindors only earned them more favours. She only hoped that they would stay on their side of the classroom.

"Granger," Parkinson sneered, "I didn't know you were handing out vials of your blood."

She produced a vial that was filled to the brim with dirt and showed it as if it were a prize to Hermione. Hermione felt her blood physically boiling as she slapped the vial out of her hand, and it smashed on the dungeon floor, spreading soil everywhere. As a response, her towering friend, Bulstrode, stood up to Hermione and squared up to her in a show of intimidation. Hermione was no more afraid of Cornish Pixies than Millicent Bulstrode, and she could take her. Harry and Ron stood beside Hermione, and were ready to draw their wands if need be.

"You're a piece of work, Parkinson," Hermione snapped. "Also, did it take you a week to come up with that or did _Drakey-Drake_ over there give you a helping hand?"

Harry and Ron spluttered at the nickname that Parkinson had weighed Malfoy down with. Malfoy was staring at his cauldron, trying his best to ignore Parkinson and Hermione. He didn't seem to even care that Hermione had used the nickname that would incur such a wrath that Malfoy would kill her with his bare hands. He just stared at his cauldron, or at anything that wasn't her.

Parkinson, to Hermione's dismay, looked unabashed. "At least I don't have mud-for-blood."

Hermione snorted at the lack of creativity that had gone into her insult and replied back as swiftly as she could, "Better mud-for-blood than dung-for-brains."

At that, she retreated onto her table beside the Gryffindors, who had been watching the conversation between Hermione and Parkinson. At Hermione's comment, there was loud eruption of snickering. What made it better was that whilst the Slytherins were glaring at Hermione for _daring_ to make such a comment, Malfoy was ignoring Parkinson's attempts to goad him into responding for her.

The hubbub of the classroom silenced when Snape swept in, his black robes swirling behind him. The room was so quiet that when he stood on bits of broken glass from the vial, the class could hear the crunch. The class held their breath as the Professor paused. Mumbling under his breath, the vial repaired itself and refilled itself of its contents in his hand. He glared at the entirety of the class.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

Hermione swivelled towards Parkinson, much like her Gryffindor housemates. If Snape could truly read thoughts, Hermione was screaming accusation after accusation in her head. No one spoke. No one wanted to be the class grass.

"I suppose Miss Parkinson can enlighten me…?"

"I-I…I do not know what that is, Professor."

 _Liar_.

"Some of your classmates seem to disagree," Snape said, casting a brief look at the Gryffindors who were all-but pointing at Parkinson, aware of what she had said and done. He looked back at the girl. "Now, shall I ask again, or shall we have a repeat of last week, I do have some dungeons that need -…"

"It was me, Professor."

Everyone turned around to the person who spoke. Malfoy had stood up, his eyes not quite looking at the Professor but not at Parkinson either. "I started a rumour that got out of hand, I told everyone that that was a vial of Granger's blood."

"I see."

The Professor looked at Parkinson with a hint of disbelief, and stormed to the front of the classroom. The girl had gone bright red, and almost looked as if she was going to cry. Snape leant over his desk, resting the palms of his hands on the edge of it.

"Twenty points from Slytherin house, Mr Malfoy, for blatant disregard for previous warnings about insulting your peers, as well as a weeks detention. Hopefully, some time with me will alter your perspectives."

Although undeserved considering he was scapegoating himself for Parkinson, Hermione felt a rush of relief that someone was getting punished at least. Part of her was glad that Malfoy had spoken up, as he deserved punishment equally for his views on Hermione as Parkinson did. Hermione was confused as to why Malfoy had done it, but she didn't need an explanation as to why Malfoy was playing the knight in shining armour.

"And, an additional five points from Gryffindor. Your house embodies bravery and loyalty, and there was nothing about your silence that was brave or loyal to a member of your House."

The Gryffindors stared at each other with annoyance. If they had spoken up, Snape would have called them all impertinent and that they didn't know their place, and that they should speak only when they were spoken to. It was also so typical of Snape to remove points from Gryffindor because he had been forced to remove points from his own House. With a quick flick of his wand, instructions appeared on Snape's blackboard and explained what they were doing that day. Hermione forced herself to think about the potion and the task at hand, rather than what they possibly would be doing.

As the double period neared the end there was light chatter in the classroom as the class were still brewing their potions. Hermione had read up on this potion before in her textbooks, and had all but finished, readying herself to add the last few ingredients, and she crushed her garlic cloves, thinking that it was Parkinson's and Malfoy's head combined. Snape wandered around the classroom and inspected the work of the students. As Snape neared the front of the class, and there was a quarter of an hour before the class finished, Hermione heard a clatter behind her. Ron had dropped his measurer and it had caught Hermione's attention.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, I'm just a little clumsy," Ron muttered. " _Hermes."_

Hermione was confused for a moment and then she realised. She thought she was imagining it but she could hear a faint fizzing noise. That had to be the distraction, and she ducked down and navigated to Snape's personal potion store behind his back. It was fortunate that they were doing something as messy as a Swelling Solution, and whatever distraction that Ron had planned was going to cause enough chaos to slip into the cupboard unnoticed.

 _ **BANG!**_

Hermione was bordering the door to the store when potion flew everywhere. As soon as she saw Snape rushing towards Draco's cauldron, she slipped wordlessly behind the door, as if she were not there. She was thankful not a single droplet of anyone's potion touched her.

The store was like the inside of a chimney and seemed to go on forever upwards. That was an exaggeration, but it took Hermione to squint to be able to see the topmost shelf. She then looked at the labels.

 _Damn! They're all alphabetical!_

Trust Snape to take his obsessive need for order right into his own Potions store. The alphabetical nature of his Potions store started at the top, with _Zebra Tail Hair_ featuring on the bottom shelves. It made it easier for him to locate his things, but finding what she needed would mean climbing up.

After years of scouring through libraries and dictionaries, Hermione was proud to say she would be able to find what she needed to rather quickly. But then, did Snape have " _Boomslang Skin (Shredded)"_ or did he feature it as " _Shredded Boomslang Skin"?_

 _You don't have time consider it!_

Hermione scaled the ladder and scanned the letters as it zoomed up the alphabet. As soon as she reached "C" she paused and looked. She could just about see something relating to Boomslang and reached for it. Even if it wasn't shredded, she would be able to shred it herself. It wasn't a difficult process. She grabbed as much as she thought would be necessary and then went for the Bicorn Horn. Again, her mind was wondering about Snape's method of alphabetising it, but she had no time. Snape could be on her tail in a matter of seconds. Her eyes flew around the shelves and she could faintly see it.

She reached for the jar without hesitation, not even caring that she was grabbing the entire thing. She then ran down the ladder, as fast as one could descend on a ladder – a practice that hours at a library had enabled – and shoved her loot up her robes and slipped out of the store cupboard.

Thank God everyone was still preoccupied with the explosion of the Swelling Solution. Hermione tried to force back a giggle as she saw Malfoy's nose drooping beyond anything that she could imagine. Harry and Ron looked relieved as soon as they saw Hermione leave the store cupboard with a rather noticeable bulge.

"Snape didn't see?" Hermione whispered.

"Preoccupied, you should have seen Pansy's face, it was one of the funniest things I ever - …"

"If I ever catch the person responsible…" Snape drawled out his sentence, giving the class a piercing look and focusing his look on Harry and Ron, "they would be expelled quicker than my self-cleaning robes could clean themselves."

x-x-x-x-x

As Christmas neared, Harry was only starting to be able to fall asleep without a considerable amount of convincing to himself that he, Parseltongue that he was, was not attacking students. He wasn't the Heir, he had had no temptations to do so, and was determined to approach every Muggleborn in the castle and tell them so.

Harry was beginning to get restless. He was sure that some unseen force was following him. At first, he thought it was Snape that was hiding around the corners of the paths that he was taking. As Dudley often referred to it, he "shit a brick" when he thought it was Snape tailing him. He didn't know the sensation of shitting a brick and why Dudley said it when he was with his friends, but it was something Dudley said when he felt an intense shock or fear. That was how Harry felt when he thought Snape was tailing him. He "shit a brick".

But then he asked Hermione and Ron to follow Snape, to catch Snape following Harry, to get rid of the paranoia. But then it had it on their authority that Snape the only thing that Snape followed was his structured and monotonous life. After lessons he stayed in his office, then at seven o'clock went to dinner, went to the staff room then went back to his office before retiring to his quarters in the dungeons. That was every single day of the week. On weekends he stayed and brewed potions and read books for amusement. Even Hermione said that he was more a boring person that she was, and coming from Hermione, that was a lot.

So it wasn't Snape. So Harry felt slightly more eased.

Then he went through his personal list of stalkers. The most recent was Dobby, so he tried to test this theory. On his own, without telling his friends what he was doing to not worry them, he set out to test Dobby. Dobby wanted him injured after all, so that they would send him back to the Dursleys, didn't he? Harry went and did all sorts of reckless things. Standing on the very edge of the structure in the clock tower, where if he fell, he'd be sure to have a terrible neck and back injury. He balanced along the battlements of the tallest places students were allowed without getting into trouble. He climbed trees. He was tempted to provoke the Whomping Willow, but that was one reckless thing too far.

So it wasn't Dobby.

 _Then who is it?_

"Harry?"

Harry jerked up and a brick like object dropped in his stomach as he fell off the pier he was sitting on, on the edge of the Black Lake, and fell into the Lake. He had effectively shit a brick. Thank Merlin he could swim and kicked as hard as he could until his head broke the water's surface. Thank Merlin this part of the lake was relatively shallow.

However, it was very cold.

"Harry!" A hand was visible and Harry, not caring if it was someone who hated his guts, reached for it and used it as help to be pulled up back onto the wooden structure. Harry gulped his thanks.

"I'm so sorry Harry, I didn't mean to disturb you, I'm so, so, so sorry!"

Harry gave up wiping his glasses on his wet robes because it wasn't helping at all. He tried to peer through the lenses to no avail.

"I don't mean to be rude, but who are you? I can't see anything through these - …"

"Here let me."

Harry felt his glasses being taken off his face. If things were blurry before, things were even blurrier now. Harry instinctively went towards the blob he assumed as the person who had taken his glasses.

"Here."

Harry felt something on his hand he looked towards the reddish-black blob and felt metal around his face. He jerked back a little only to have his vision restored.

"Ginny?"

"Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean - …" her arms started flapping around and her face was bright red for some reason Harry couldn't understand. He knew that she was frantic, he had gathered as much from being around Hermione and Lacie so much.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, trying not to shiver. As long as she calmed down, Harry could have a chance to slip away and get somewhere warm.

"I'm always here…you know, to get away from my thoughts…"

"R-r-r-right," Harry's teeth chattered and he couldn't control his body shaking.

"Do you come here a lot? I mean, I come here because he - …" she froze and the blood drained out of her face. She then looked at the floor in a way where her hair covered her face and she turned to walk away.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, trying to not let his voice shake.

"I'm fine!" her brisk walk went into a run towards the castle. Harry hugged himself in confusion and watched as she slowly became a speck before realising that he was freezing and sprinted his way back to the castle before he froze to death.

* * *

 _A/N: Adding Dramione fluff was my favourite part of re-editing this story :)_

 _CS._


	9. Sense of Something Lost

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Sense of Something Lost**

* * *

Who show'd a token of distress?  
No single tear, no mark of pain:  
O sorrow, then can sorrow wane?  
O grief, can grief be changed to less?

Alfred Lord Tennyson from ' _In Memoriam A.H.H: 78_ '.

* * *

Hermione and Ron were quietly doing their homework in the Common Room, the sounds of their quills scratching against parchment was the only noise they were making between them. The Herbology class they were supposed to be attending had been cancelled, and Ron was finishing off his Transfiguration homework before the class. Hermione was occupied by some Potions homework due in the next week. They didn't know where Harry had gone, but they knew better than to ask him, their already had enough on his plate. Instead, they sought refuge with the other students in the above years that had a free period. The chattering of their Housemates was interrupted by someone clambering through the portrait hole, yelling. "ATTACK!"

Dropping her quill, Hermione span around in the direction of the pale, quivering student and stared at him.

"What do you mean, attack?" A seventh-year asked as he stood up from his game of Gobstones.

"Potter, I mean, the Heir of Slytherin… he's done it again."

Hermione glanced as Ron, but Ron was already on his feet and running out of the Common Room. Hermione was quick to follow, and they sped through the corridors. They didn't know where to run, but they seemed to hear noises of accusatory chatter and sprinted towards that. Hermione bent over as she felt a stitch in her side. Ron seemed to stand on his tiptoes to see the scene behind the students. Suddenly the crowd parted and a rather soaked Harry was being led away by a stern faced Professor McGonagall.

"Harry!" Hermione called out. Harry looked at Hermione and grabbed at her. Hermione could feel the tension mount as people looked on, wondering if the Heir was going to attack Hermione next. Hermione knew that they were ludicrous claims, of course, because Harry wasn't the Heir and he knew better than to attack Hermione.

"It wasn't me, please, you have to believe that it wasn't me!" Emotion was building up behind his glasses, and his green eyes were almost welling up. Hermione nodded, unable to say anything for once.

"Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall cautioned, but Harry ignored her. His wet hands were still grasping Hermione's robes. _Why was he was so wet? Now is not the time for that!_

"Please, Hermione, Ron, please trust me when I say -…"

"We know," Hermione said quietly as Harry was ushered away from them. He didn't look back at them, and the Professor was frogmarching him despite the stares and the pointing.

"I would stay away from him," said a Ravenclaw student next to them. It was Parvati's twin whom Hermione was unfamiliar with but shared Ancient Runes with. The girl peeked in the direction where McGonagall and Harry had disappeared. "It could be you next."

"Harry is my best friend, and when he says he didn't do it, I believe him," Hermione said defiantly. Parvati's twin shrugged and walked away with her friends. People started to disband and head towards their respective classes.

"I hate this," Ron said, as they stood back and watched people leaving in their groups, this time more huddled than before. "It's like everyone has made their judgement on Harry since the Duelling Club and this has made it worse."

"It's utter tripe if you ask me, if Harry was truly the Heir of Slytherin, he wouldn't want to punch Malfoy every time my blood status was brought up and well… Harry is a _Gryffindor_ , how can that possibly be?" Hermione lamented. Ron wasn't listening to her, however, and was instead talking to someone else.

"Who was attacked anyway?" Ron asked the people closest to him, and they muttered something, casting a cursory glance at Hermione. Hermione raised an eyebrow and they soon hurried off. Ron had turned a funny shade of grey.

"What's wrong?"

Ron gulped, "The person who was attacked was Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Wasn't that - …?"

"The boy who Harry swore he never set the snake on? Yes."

Hermione and Ron started to walk away from the crowd, making sure no one was listening to them as they spoke in hushed tones.

"This is bad," Hermione whispered. "Those Hufflepuffs have been whispering about hiding Justin for weeks, no wonder they think it was Harry. You don't think Harry was stupid enough to -…"

"He is, but I told him that he shouldn't," Ron said, "It was better to be safe than sorry and he needed to keep out of trouble."

"You sound like Lacie," Hermione said with a weak smile.

"Never," Ron said as he frowned. "Where _has_ Harry been during this free period, and why was he completely soaked? It hasn't even rained today."

There seemed to be a mounting amount of questions that had yet to be answered. Who was the Heir of Slytherin, and why hadn't they spoken up yet? Why were they trying to frame Harry? Where had Harry been? What did Apollo have to do with anything? Hermione felt that despite all of her time in the library, she was no closer to answering any of the questions that were troubling her. At least she knew how to get some of them answered.

"I'm just going to check on the Potion, can you cover for me in Transfiguration? Tell McGonagall I've gone to the bathroom and that I'm really sorry that I'm late."

"Now?"

"Look, if it isn't Malfoy, it's better to get a head start, I mean, this time last year we were close to finding Flamel!"

"Well, maybe the Heir is going home for Christmas," Ron said, "Nothing we can do until term starts again."

"We have a week, we should try our best at least before the Heir goes off for three weeks to eat turkey and celebrate Christmas at home whilst Colin, Justin and Mrs Norris lie like ice statues in the Hospital Wing."

Ron stopped and looked at her with a strange expression on his face.

"Hermione, did you really have to go and make Christmas sound so morbid?"

x-x-x-x-x

As the winter term started to draw to a close, chatter started to centre on the winter holidays and after his week of detentions with Snape had concluded, Draco made a decision. He did not want to spend Christmas, or the New Year or any part of the holidays at home. Lacie was most likely not going to be there and he did not need to hear from his father how disappointed he had been during their first Quidditch match. He also did not need to hear more about how his sister was a disappointment. Furthermore, he did not wish to be mollycoddled in excess by his mother who was missing his sister, as evidenced with her daily letters to Draco. They had already sent away one child and had been fine with that fact; they could handle two children not being home.

Draco walked up defiantly up to the sign-up sheet in the Entrance Hall and pulled it off before signing his name in an elaborate scrawl. He paid little attention to the names that were already on the list. He did not need to read it to know that the 'Golden Trio' was staying; Saint Potter was too _important_ to go back to his Muggle relatives, and his other two cohorts only did what he said. His peers seemed to be confused about Draco's actions for a moment, but then Pansy plucked the sheet out of his hands and signed her name too. Draco frowned.

The last thing that he wanted was to spend time with the girl who had enforced some godfather-godson bonding time, and several lectures on the insignificance of blood purity that would make his father furious. The girl probably thought that she owed him some form of favour for taking the punishment instead of her. He had not really done it for her. He had done it because Snape was probably going to be more lenient with his punishment if it was Draco who had confessed to it, and if he did not Pansy would have chewed his ear off about her punishment. He had not wanted to have another week of Pansy bemoaning her ruined hands. He looked pleadingly over at Theo, who stood shaking his head with a smirk. Crabbe and Goyle, however, could not sign their names faster when Draco raised an eyebrow at them.

"If you did not want to go home so badly, you are always welcome at Nott Manor for the Christmas holidays," Theo said as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"And you know that my mother would have me Portkeyed straight home, or worse," Draco replied sadly, "At least she can only pester me with owls whilst I stay here."

"What would be so bad about going home to a beautiful Manor with parents who will dote on you?" Blaise asked lazily, he looked over at Pansy, "And you, were you not excited for the Christmas party your family are hosting this year?"

Pansy looked cautiously over at Draco, before saying with a smile, "Well, there is always next year, am I right, Draco?"

Draco acknowledged her with a small sound of agreement. He took a seat and started loading his plate up with toast and listened as Blaise questioned Pansy more about the Parkinson's Christmas party and its attendees. It was one of the most important social occasions of the year, and Draco was wholly surprised that Pansy had eschewed attending it. It was only a few days ago that she had discussed dress options with Daphne quite loudly in the Common Room, hoping that Draco would provide some sort of answer. He had not because he could not care less about what insignificant dress she wore and if it matched her eyes.

"You seem to be awfully concerned about who is attending my family's Christmas party," Pansy remarked loudly over her cereal, pulling Draco from his thoughts, "I did not know the Zabinis were invited this year."

"Mother is working on husband number four," Blaise said unhappily, "He got invited and we are just accompanying him, however, I have no intention of making nice with yet another stepfather, and wanted to know who else would be there."

"La Vedova Nera strikes again," Millicent mumbled. Blaise shot her a dirty look before returning to his coffee. It seemed he was aware of what his mother was called behind her back, and to add insult to injury, it was in Italian – just like the object of the nickname. In certain social circles it was polite to not talk about a person in such a manner, but those certain social circles were full of hypocrites and liars. Draco knew that whilst his mother would play nice with everyone at the Parkinson Christmas party, there would be whispers about Blaise's mother. Christmas was the season of snakes and deceit, after all. It was fitting that they had all been in Slytherin.

Not one spoke after Millicent, not wishing to elaborate on what she had said. Draco was smart enough to know that it was a topic best left alone. It was Pansy who changed the topic and breaking the awkward silence between the Slytherins.

"But are you sure, Draco, would Christmas dinner honestly be preferable here in the company of Potter, Granger and the brood of Weasleys rather than Malfoy Manor? Would you not rather…?" Pansy asked but Draco cut across her.

"You do not have to stay too," Draco said, "You can do as you please…"

"Of course I would love to stay here with you, it will be the first of many Christmases together, after all," Pansy said with a sickeningly sweet smile as she clapped her hands together. Draco took this moment to look at Theo again with a look of desperation. He snorted into his tea and shook his head violently.

 _At least stay because you fancy the girl and not because you enjoy my misery._ Theo looked at him and raised his eyebrow. "Not enough of a reason."

Draco grumbled as he ate his breakfast, at least he had Crabbe and Goyle to order about during the holidays. Maybe they would even keep Pansy away from him.

x-x-x-x-x

Severus stood in the shadows of the Headmaster's study and watched as Minerva McGonagall sighed and collapsed into a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. He peered at the Headmaster in question; his blue eyes were dull and tired behind his half-moon glasses. The enigma of Albus Dumbledore was merely a shadow in the exhaustion of the events of the previous months. Minerva sighed, again. "Was it Potter?"

"The boy has a way of attracting trouble even when he is strolling to class, let alone in the middle of the evening without his two sidekicks," Severus said as he paced the circular office. He stopped for a moment and looked at Minerva. "But no, this is magic too dark and advanced for the boy to even consider let allow wield."

There was a brief look of relief, and then the woman's features furrowed again. Severus started to pace the classroom once more.

"It is not the Malfoy boy either."

Minerva turned to face him before saying rather adamantly, "I didn't -…"

"It does not take a good Legilimens to see the thought cross your mind," Severus said, glancing briefly at Dumbledore, "Also, you forget that Lacerta Malfoy is a Gryffindor, if the Malfoy family were to truly be descendants of Slytherin, we would have not had the fiasco at the beginning of last year."

Minerva looked away without saying anything. There was no fault in his words or suggestion, but it did bother him. The last Parselmouth he had encountered had been the Dark Lord, and Severus did not doubt for a moment that his old master was a descendant of Slytherin. It seemed that the charming prejudices were hereditary. Minerva stood up to peer in one of the many instruments on Dumbledore's desk. Severus watched as she frowned after merely gazing into one.

"Morale is at an all time low at Hogwarts, Minerva," Dumbledore said solemnly. "We do not have a culprit for these attacks that mirror those of exactly fifty years ago."

"You said that the person who was accused was -…"

"Indeed, but it was not nor will it ever be Hagrid, it was an elaborate plan to frame our beloved Gamekeeper. I was not able to prove it back then, despite my strong suspicions."

"You suspected You-Know-Who fifty years ago," said Minerva tonelessly. "So its true, _he's_ back?"

"No, according to reliable sources, he is hiding out in the forests of Albania, biding his time."

"So he will be back?"

"Not for a very long time," Dumbledore said slowly, removing his glasses and placing them on his desk and giving his eyelids a rub. "But we cannot predict when the storm will hit."

"Well this doesn't explain who it is now," Minerva said, walking to her seat and sitting in it again. She pointed at the instrument. "Look at it, Severus."

Severus moved from his spot briskly, peeked at the instrument fleetingly before returning to his original position. He had not spoken in the exchange between the Headmaster and his deputy, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. He was better at being a bystander and watching. Noticing that they were expecting a response of some sort, he muttered, "Familiar scene."

Familiar in a time when You-Know-Who terrorised families, when people did not know whether or not their families would survive the week. The edging away from Slytherin students was also familiar, as if they were the responsible parties. The only difference was that the notion of Potter being the Heir of Slytherin was so amusing to the Weasley twins that they paraded it around fearlessly.

"Students huddled around, protecting one another, scurrying to classes. The worst being Mr Potter not being able to approach a Muggle-born without being victimised by other students," Minerva said sadly. "It seems like the only one they do not protect is Miss Granger."

"They know Potter would rather snap his broom in half than Petrify Miss Granger," Severus said, "Also the girl is intelligent enough to not listen to rumour or speculation."

"True," Dumbledore said, opening his eyes. He stared at his desk for a moment before replacing his glasses. "Whilst we cannot change student opinion, we can boost morale."

"The children are due to leave next week, what can we do?"

"Enlist Gilderoy's help," Dumbledore said wearily, "Have him arrange it after the holidays."

Minerva smirked, "Albus, by letting Gilderoy conduct something like that is rather… risky don't you think? The man is rather eccentric."

"You'll have gargoyles dressed in velvet strolling around Hogwarts, if you let him unleash upon the students," Severus said the words tumbled out of his mouth and left a sour taste. He wondered if the Headmaster had gone temporarily mad.

"It would keep him out of your hair as you try to sort different arrangements out."

"And you, Albus?"

Dumbledore reclined in his seat, his fingers interlocking with each other as he did so, and he smiled half-heartedly.

"Oh, I do not believe I will be around much longer. There is unrest within the Board of Governors."

"Why?" Minerva asked.

"They think I have done too little to prevent these attacks - …"

"Absurd! We don't know the perpetrator!" Minerva shot to her feet, and even Severus walked to her side.

"Nevertheless, I am expecting a visit from one of the members in the coming months with an Order of Suspension. I am merely warning you."

"Ridiculous, they get rid of you, then the whole school will be attacked," Minerva growled.

Severus did not wish to correct Minerva, but only people that were not Slytherin would not be attacked, furthermore, purebloods in other Houses were relatively safe. Severus did, however, agree that the removal of Dumbledore, Hogwarts would no longer be the safest place for its students. After all, the one wizard that his old master feared was Dumbledore, hence why Hogwarts had always been safe.

"You have too much faith in me, Minerva. You are Deputy Headmistress, ergo, you will do a fine job if I were not to be around."

Minerva opened her mouth, only to close it a few seconds later, she looked away, her hand rested on the arm of the chair that she had been sitting on. "If you say so, Albus. I apologise to leave so abruptly, but I must see off the Thestrals at the castle gates."

She left the office in a swish of her robes and left Severus and the Headmaster together alone. Severus surveyed Dumbledore as the latter watched his deputy leave. After the sounds of the stone gargoyle subsided, the Headmaster looked at him. He had been unaware that he had been watching him.

"I must also -…"

"Please sit, Severus."

He obeyed almost immediately, falling into the seat that Minerva had just vacated. He looked across at Dumbledore, and could almost see the exhaustion etched in his mentor's face.

"You look weary, old man."

The Headmaster chuckled. "I thought by appointing you a Head of House, your nurturing side would thrive. I suppose I was naïve in my thoughts."

"You appointed me as a Head of House because you have a severe lack of Slytherin professors, despite knowing that that side would never appear," Severus replied monotonously, "Also, did you expect me to brew you a cup of tea? That was never a prerequisite of my job here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore did not respond to him, instead he looked at the several pieces of parchment that littered his long, mahogany desk. A smile played on the old man's lips as he read what seemed to be a recent piece of correspondence.

"Your thoughts on the boy?"

"My thoughts on the boy are not relevant -…"

"Your _thoughts_ on the boy, Severus." It was said as if it was an order this time, rather than a question that Severus could not avoid by being passive on the matter.

"The boy seemed to have lost that arrogance that has marked him ever since he started at this institution, the fear that making himself noticeable would convince people that he truly was the Heir of Slytherin consumes him, as it is an idea that he finds more abhorrent than unrestrained rule-breaking."

"Your perspective is as insightful as ever," Dumbledore said, smiling as he returned to his letter, his newly reborn phoenix started cooing in the background. It was a disgusting thing in the beginning stages of its life, and Severus pulled a face that indicated so. The Headmaster chuckled again; Severus noticed that he seemed to cause the Headmaster to do so involuntarily. Dumbledore stood up, and went to the stand where the _thing_ was nesting in the ashes of its previous bodies. As useful as phoenixes were, they were also quite disgusting.

"It would seem that I will never make a nurturer out of you," Dumbledore said wistfully. "I hope that when the time is right, you will be the protector of these children and cause them no harm despite your personal reservations."

"Nothing -…"

"You are excused, but before you leave…" Dumbledore said trailing off, and walking to his cabinet that housed many objects, he pulled out a small silver, stringed instrument and admired it for a moment before putting it on his desk. "I need you to go to Beauxbatons."

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione watched as the last of the Gryffindor students hurried out of the Common Room, determined not to miss the last carriage out of Hogwarts and into the safety that existed within the bosom of their own families. She had noticed the day after she had signed her own name to the list of people that would be remaining at Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy, a selection of his sidekicks, and his fiancée-to-be had also signed up to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. This provided an opportunity that was not only interesting, but one that the three couldn't pass up.

"I think the holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione said, as she sat down in the fat armchairs that surrounded the fireplace. They were truly the best seats in the entirety of the Common Room and there was little wonder why they were also the most coveted. Hermione curled into a ball, almost letting the armchair swallow her up in comfort.

"Hermione, this is the one time of the year so far where we haven't had to think about Malfoy, why have you brought him up now?" Ron complained.

"You don't have to think about him," Hermione snapped back before smirking, "Why, Ronald, I didn't think you thought about him that often."

"I don't!"

Hermione looked over at Harry, who was grinning for the first time in weeks. She watched as the tips of Ron's ears had turned red, and it wasn't a reflection in the fire. "I'm telling Lacie."

"Don't you -…"

"You love…" Harry chimed in.

" _Harry_ …." Ron complained. "Not you as well."

Hermione giggled as the redness from Ron's ears had spread to his face and slowly down his neck. She let that torture Ron for a moment before continuing, "Back to what I was saying, it turns out that Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle are all staying for the Christmas holidays and with everyone gone, I think this would be the right time to take the potion."

Ron raised an eyebrow, all embarrassment disappearing and asked, "What are we doing with the real Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle?"

Hermione should have known that it was naïve to draw up battle-plans without Ron's approval as he had a knack for planning ahead and smoothing out the flaws in even the best-laid plans. He always seemed to think three steps ahead, as if life was a game of chess. Fortunately, Hermione had a response for him.

"Sleeping Draught should keep them busy for a few hours."

"What about uniforms? We would look a bit conspicuous if we were to arrive in Gryffindor uniforms in the Slytherin Common Rooms."

"I stole some out of the laundry," Hermione said mischievously, "It seems I'm currently on a roll with that sort of thing."

Harry and Ron snickered. Ron sobered quickly, though and asked with seriousness, "When would we be doing this?"

Hermione faltered at that, she had just assumed that some point in the holidays would be a useful time to use the Polyjuice Potion. She admitted as much to the two. Ron smirked at her and it seemed as if he had an answer to her.

"We do it on Christmas Day after Christmas Dinner, they won't be expecting a thing."

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie shivered as she took her first step after taking the Portkey, hoping that the world would stop spinning. She should have worn a coat. Her thin blue uniform did nothing to shield her from the bitter English winter. She dropped the lyre in her hand, and she started dragging her suitcase towards Malfoy Manor.

She was home.

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies this one is a little bit late (It's 1am in the UK), I've been sooo busy today, and I forgot it was Tuesday haha and as this is pretty much one of the chapters I heavily rewrote/shortened/split into two, it did not have an opener and trawling through the works of Alfred Lord Tennyson at 1am is no joke._

 _Lacie's back! [Insert shameless plugging of 'if you don't know Lacie by now, give Bright Star a quick read'] [Also note that she isn't really really back for 2-3 chapters, sorry]._

 _CS x_


	10. Pass on, Weak Heart

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Pass On, Weak Heart**

* * *

 _Come not, when I am dead,  
To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,  
To trample round my fallen head,  
And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save."_

Alfred Lord Tennyson from _Come Not When I Am Dead_

* * *

Hermione was nervous in executing her plan, and could feel her Christmas Dinner edging its way up. She needn't worry at all. She had said it several times before, Harry and Ron was to give Crabbe and Goyle her cupcakes and Hermione was to distract Parkinson. Hermione wished for moment that she were the one to incapacitate Crabbe and Goyle considering they had the combined intelligence of a troll. Parkinson, on the other hand, could scratch and kick and punch. She considered for a moment the calibre of Harry and Ron combined and the necessity that they got the job done.

It was better she was distracting Parkinson, otherwise the boys would have never got the job done.

The good thing about tailing Parkinson was that she didn't seem to be around Draco all the time, and when she wasn't around Draco there were only few occasions when she was with someone else.

 _Probably because no one likes you,_ Hermione thought snidely before chastising herself. She had been the victim of bullying and she wasn't going to sink to someone else's level.

Another thing that didn't bother her about Parkinson was that she wasn't very vigilant. She rarely would check behind herself, and seemed to dance merrily as she went, without a care in the world. Then again, had Lauren not been in Hermione's life she wouldn't have felt the need to check behind herself when she was alone. Hermione had the feeling that Pansy Parkinson had definitely lived a sheltered life.

She had been following Parkinson for several minutes before she felt like giving up. Parkinson seemed to like to wander in and out of corridors but after a crazed detouring session, Hermione realised that she was heading towards the first-floor toilets. There was no other place that Hermione knew better that the girl's bathroom on the first floor.

After all, she had been trapped in there once with a troll. It still made her shiver.

Her hand brushed against the cleaning bottle that Fred and George had stolen from Filch's supplies. When Hermione had asked, they looked as if someone had given them twenty Galleons, whereas in reality, Hermione had given them two each for the job out of guilt because they could have gotten caught. If it had something involving Filch, the twins were the people to look for. Annoying Filch was their speciality and somehow, a good Christmas present to them.

Parkinson's pace was quickening as she reached the door to the bathroom. It was fortunate really that Filch was a Squib and couldn't use magic to clean the Castle. Fred and George said it was child's play simply taking an empty plastic squirty bottle (was there even another term for what Hermione was carrying in her robes?) and because it was Fred and George, well, as long as you didn't ask how they knew what to do, well, they didn't ask too many questions.

The plan was simple. Ambush Parkinson, spray her in the face with Sleeping Draught, put her in an inconspicuous place and take some of her hair. There was nothing that could go wrong. Even Ron had said that there was no flaw in her plan, once he had stopped laughing when she told him how she was going to stall Parkinson for a couple of hours.

Except, the fact that everything could go wrong. The spray could malfunction. The dosage could be too little. It was the little things.

For insurance that Parkinson wouldn't know it was her, Hermione pulled a pillowcase over her face. She had already cut holes for eyes and reached for the closing bathroom door. She felt like a bandit in an old Muggle film she had watched. She slowed the door closing considerably and waited to hear the lock of the cubicle before pushing the door as slowly as possible, and opening only enough to let her body slide through. She tiptoed in the bathroom, giving Parkinson no indication that there was someone else in there.

Hermione located the only possible cubicle that Pansy could be in right now and stood by its door.

It was easy.

As soon as Parkinson opened the door, Hermione would spray a face full of the Sleeping Draught at her. Hopefully the effect was instantaneous, or Hermione would have to run away, or keep spraying. She hadn't really thought that far yet. Ron would be scandalised.

Hermione heard the toilet roll, roll in its holder, and its perforated edges ripped. She pulled the bottle out of her robes, her index finger poised on the on the trigger.

There was a flushing noise.

Hermione used the loud noise to mask a deep breath.

The sound of the lock being opened. The swing of the door. The shadow of a foot. Everything seemed to happen slower, clearer, and in a way Hermione was processing quick enough for her finger to press down and let out a mist just in front of Pansy's face. She coughed, inhaled some and then turned to Hermione.

Her stomach dropped bringing Christmas dinner down with it, and then she realised that Parkinson couldn't see her face. Confusion registered on the girl's face.

"What on earth…"

Hermione sprayed again, making sure Parkinson got a face full. Parkinson spluttered as Hermione kept spraying.

"What is wrong -…" Parkinson retched as she got a mouth full.

 _Come on, come on, come on!_

Maybe the potion was degrading as she was dispensing it, maybe…

Hermione was able to _just_ catch Pansy as she fell. _Yes! It had worked!_

Hermione really wanted to do a victory dance at that point, but she realised that there were people to meet and Heirs to catch. She pulled out several of Parkinson's hairs for safe measure and put them in a little envelope, before pocketing it.

She placed Pansy in a cubicle with great difficulty, seating her on a closed toilet and taking the utmost care that there was no chance that she was going to fall and hit her head on the floor. She shouldn't have considering all the grief that Parkinson enjoyed inflicting on her, but if there was that small amount of do-gooding that would counteract the rules she was about to break, Hermione was going to do it.

Hermione closed the cubicle door behind her and left it in such a way that someone would think that there was someone occupied in there if there was a chance someone came in, although, since it was Christmas that idea was highly unlikely. She pulled off the pillowcase and along with the squirty bottle, and put them in her robes before leaving the bathroom.

Of course, Hermione felt awful that she had left Pansy in such a state, but she had no time to worry. Like the Polyjuice Potion, her Sleeping Draught, although powerful, had a shelf life and she needed to hurry before the real Pansy walked in the Slytherin Common Room just as she was impersonating her.

She walked briskly to the Grand Staircase, and took two steps at a time to reach the second floor.

"Granger."

Hermione looked up at a figure that was slowly coming down from the Third Floor, his hand just grazing the bannister for support, and his face was screwing up in relief that the Staircase was behaving itself.

"What, Malfoy?"

"I was looking for you."

"You didn't look very hard," Hermione retorted.

"Normally you are not a hard person to find, normally you are slaving over the books in the library like the good little swot you are."

Hermione ignored the jibe, "Ha, ha. It's Christmas, I think the books deserve a rest."

"From you, anyone deserves a day off. When will Potter and Weasley ask for one?"

Hermione felt herself redden, "Malfoy, it's Christmas, can't you stop being… a-a-a prat for one day?"

"Did Weasley teach you how to insult people? Wow, no wonder I felt praised," Malfoy said with a smirk.

"You're abhorrent!"

"You have broken my heart."

"Oh, as _if_ you had one in the first place, Malfoy! What do you even want, aside from skipping around to merry people and happily ruining their Christmases?"

Malfoy looked taken aback for a moment and then his face darkened. "Here." Malfoy's hands dived in his pockets and produced a small, ornate object. He extended his arm.

"What is it?"

"Just take it."

"No, I won't!"

"Take it now or I will hex you."

"Wow, Malfoy. Who died and made you the King of Persuasion?"

"It is a gift from Lacie, so take it before my insufferable sister nags at me."

Hermione took a step back. "What?"

Hermione reached for it and took it. It was a small mirror. She examined it, and turned it over to see the back. The silvery vines that sprawled across the edges of the mirror and its handle, came together on the back. Hermione couldn't quite see, but she could feel, a raised bump. It wasn't surprising when she realised that the raised area was in fact the letter, M.

"It is a family heirloom," Malfoy said softly, "Whenever there is a Dark Creature around it burns and vibrates in your pocket."

"W-Why?"

"Look," Malfoy walked around her, placing his hand over hers as she held the mirror by its handle. He was at her shoulder and pointed the mirror and Hermione could see the Portrait behind her. Hermione shifted the mirror slightly and saw Malfoy's face, and his eyes were bright with excitement for a moment before he caught his reflection and his face reddened. He dropped his hand. He cleared his throat and spoke, his voice sounding several tones deeper than it normally was.

"Granger."

Hermione was too confused to conjure a sentence. Normally Hermione had _something_ to say, but instead there was nothing, well, except for, "Thanks."

"You are welcome," Malfoy said shortly before running down the stairs. He paused, faltered before turning around with a look crossed between disgust and delight and said, "Merry Christmas to you, Granger."

Hermione didn't have the chance to say it back, as Malfoy sprinted down the cooperative stairs and disappeared out of sight. Maybe Malfoy wasn't completely bad, maybe there was a ray of redemption in him, and tonight they would find that out. He didn't know anything about the Heir and he also condemned the Heir. He was only putting up a front because he was a Slytherin, after all, that day in the library it had been Theo who had triggered the comment that Malfoy was only lowering himself down by accompanying her in the library. Maybe he was completely misunderstood, and Hermione was in the long line of people who misunderstood him.

"…and a Merry Christmas to you, too, Malfoy," she whispered to herself with a smile, adding the mirror to the many other objects in her pocket.

x-x-x-x-x

"So I think if we just linger here, for a bit, maybe someone will tell us where to go…" Ron said as he played with his tie uncomfortably. Harry looked just as uncomfortable as Ron. Hermione wasn't surprised, they were big and tall and troll-like, and in real life, they had the combined IQ of 100. The size of Crabbe's neck was probably the size of Ron's thigh.

"Goyle doesn't wear glasses!" Hermione hissed at Harry. Harry looked at her for a moment, and then a moment of clarity crossed Goyle's face. Hermione bit back a smile, knowing that that she'd never see that expression on that face again.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Parkinson!" a horribly familiar voice called at them just as Harry finished putting his glasses in his pocket, from down the dungeon. Hermione froze, but Ron looked ready to pounce. "Why are you stood out here? There's a curfew."

"But it's Christmas, Per-I mean, Weasley," Harry said just as Ron said, "What are you doing here?"

Percy looked confused at the jumble of words being thrown at him, but decided to answer Ron with a tight voice, "I'm a Prefect, Crabbe."

"…And we have heard it enough times, Weasley." Malfoy had taken this time to appear and for one moment, Hermione was grateful to see him.

"Malfoy," Percy said coolly, "I'd watch your tone."

"I would watch yours," Malfoy said airily, "Considering your father lost the inquiry, I would say one more mistake on his part and his job is on the line."

Hermione could see that Percy was shaking with anger as he hissed, "I can put you in detention for disrespecting a Prefect."

"You can, but you will not… unless you want to lose your badge," Malfoy said rather smugly, "Do not forget, Weasley, some fathers lose inquiries, other fathers are school governors."

The colour drained out of Percy's face. Ron looked like he was about to throw at punch straight into Malfoy's face. He probably felt guilty at the jibe he had made at Percy before, considering he was getting humiliated now.

"Yes, well-…" Percy took a deep breath, his chest puffed out as he said shakily with a cold tone, "I'd watch your back."

He turned on his heels and stomped away, his robes swishing side to side and the sound of a slamming door was heard not long after. Malfoy chuckled and then saw that he was accompanied.

"Crabbe, look lively! It is Christmas!" Malfoy said, elbowing Ron. Ron just glared at him. Malfoy rolled his eyes, "…or do not."

He walked past Hermione into the tunnels, he took three steps and turned around, "Well, what are you doing? Are you just going to stand there?"

Hermione strolled up to Malfoy and took his arm, "Lead the way."

She fluttered her eyelashes in a way that physically hurt her eyes. It was one of the things she couldn't understand about stereotypical girly-girls like Pansy who pretended to be a damsel in distress constantly to make Malfoy feel some sort of protectiveness over her. It clearly worked though, considering Malfoy jumped to her defence and took a weeks worth of detention for her.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at Harry and Ron and started walking, twisting and turning in directions that made Hermione feel ill, like the time in which she was in Malfoy's maze. Though this time it was much worse, as it lasted longer, and her body felt light, each footstep felt like she was closer to throwing up violently. Her head was pounding as if she was being forced through an invisible fog, but to keep up her disguise she tried not to wobble, even though she really needed to. One look behind her she saw Harry and Ron look pale. Malfoy, on the other hand looked unperturbed.

 _It must be a Slytherin thing_ , Hermione thought to herself. She didn't even know the reasoning behind his decision from taking certain tunnels. To him, it was instinctive what to do. He stopped abruptly at a wall and said with a smug tone, "Pureblood".

The bricks on the wall slid downwards revealing the Slytherin Common Room. Malfoy stepped in first and Hermione followed, she stared around the place. Even though the candles and the fireplace were emitting a golden glow she would have seen in the Gryffindor Common Room, but the room was bathed in an unusually comfortable green light. Malfoy went to the Christmas tree and was looking under it for gifts. Rather unlike the Gryffindor Christmas tree, which was a hotchpotch of different ornaments and tinsel, the Slytherin one screamed elegance, with a single strip of silver tinsel and silver ornaments dangling down in military precision and twinkled like stars.

"Aren't you going to sit?" Malfoy asked, chancing upon a small package and rattled it. Harry and Ron reacted in a way that Crabbe and Goyle would have, and sat immediately. Hermione took her time to walk to the seats and perched on the edge of the emerald leather sofa opposite Harry and Ron. It wasn't hard to perch on it, considering that it was far from the comfy Gryffindor armchairs. Hermione looked expectantly at Malfoy and cleared her throat.

"Does this belong to any of you?" Malfoy asked nonchalantly. The three shook their heads mutely. Malfoy looked around him and ripped the small box open and saw that it had some sort of amulet. He closed it up, and put it back underneath the tree. As he returned, he brought over a copy of the _Evening Prophet_ and threw it in the direction of Harry and Ron. He sat down with a grin, and then went on to put his head on Hermione's lap. She almost jumped but she managed to stay still as he reclined on the sofa.

"Weasley fined, I could skip merrily down the corridors for a week," Malfoy said, "Serves them all right, thinking that because they have a connection with Saint Potter they have a right to strut about, stupid blood traitors."

Hermione could see out of the corner of her eye that Ron had clenched his fist very tightly around the article. Most of Hermione's attention was on watching Malfoy for a reaction so that she could see it before it happened. For some reason, her hands went to his hair by some sort of reflex.

x-x-x-x-x

There was something about the way that Pansy stroked his hair that soothed Draco. She had done it before, her nails digging into his scalp at occasions but normally he resisted from jumping up at her and giving a scathing look. The last thing he needed was the Parkinsons against the Malfoys, not when Father desperately wanted a marriage union between the pair. But this was a different thing entirely, as there was attentiveness to it, a delicacy that Draco was sure that only Lacie was capable of.

 _Oh Lacie, where are you? Why have you not written to me, even though you can?_ Draco thought wistfully. His thoughts of his twin were distracted as Pansy's soft fingers briefly played with his ear. He was surprised that he did not shy away from her touch. _Well, that was a new sensation_.

There was a guffaw from Goyle as he read the article and he said rather emotionlessly, "Yeah, Saint Potter, but everyone's scared of him."

"I do not see why," Draco said with a sulky tone. He did not know why it was there but he resented that it, "There is no way that he is the Heir, he is far too saint-like. He and his dancing band of merry misfits."

"But he speaks Parseltongue," Pansy said, "Surely - …"

"Yes, that is rather strange, I wrote to Father… even he was surprised," Draco said slowly. He snickered, "I was expecting more people to think _I_ was the Heir, considering…"

He stopped himself mid-sentence. He did not have to explain himself to the three. There was a very long pause.

"Are you?"

"Crabbe, even if I was, I would not go around blabbering it around for _anyone_ to hear," Draco said rolling his eyes. "And I have told you, I am not the Heir."

"I heard that the Chamber was opened fifty years ago," Pansy said. As soon as she said it, a tight smile formed on her face.

"Who told you that?" Draco demanded to know, as far as he was aware, only Theo knew that the Chamber had been opened before. "Was it Theo?"

Draco would not put it past Theo to have proverbially spilt the beans to Pansy. The crush that he held for her was so shamefully obvious, that it was a wonder how Pansy did not actually see it. The time that Pansy could have spent worrying over him like he was a fragile doll, she could have spent noticing Theo's infatuation.

 _Each to their own,_ Draco though to himself as Pansy answered him, " _Everyone_ knows that the Chamber was opened before. Why do you think that Dumbledore looks so worried when he is telling us everything is fine?"

Draco opened his mouth. He closed it. He had not expected _Pansy_ to notice something like that. He had underestimated her.

"Well… I am not the Heir, and I do not know anything about the Heir fifty years ago."

"Wouldn't your Father know a little bit about the Heir?" Goyle asked with a desperate tone. Draco was confused considering that he told them time and time again that his Father did not know anything about the Heir. He was even more confused when he looked up to see Pansy glare across the room at him considering there was no reason to. She might have mistaken his desperation as attention seeking.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco asked, sitting up. Pansy jumped a little and her hands fell limply to her lap. Her gaze darted from side to side.

"Obviously…" she faltered, "You don't want to talk about the Heir. I mean that, you must get it all the time, everyone asking you because your dad is a Governor."

There was something satisfying about her tone when she said it, like he was the bearer of all knowledge. The best thing was that he had the inside scoop when it came to what happened the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened. There was something incredibly gratifying about being a know-it-all, and for once, he understood why Granger liked being such a swot.

"Well, there is something I have not told anyone," Draco said quietly and he leant in closer to Crabbe and Goyle. "Father wrote to me this morning."

"What is it?" Goyle asked, Crabbe looked interested in this snippet of information too.

"Father said that the last time the Chamber was opened a Mudblood _died_ ," Draco whispered across the room to them, not caring if Pansy heard at all. Strangely nice sensations or not, Draco still did not like her one bit. "I hope that this time, it'll be _Granger_."

There was a loud gasp beside him and he turned to look at Pansy whose eyes had gone suddenly wet. She was visibly shaking.

"What is the matter now? I thought you hated Granger!"

"If you can't notice the difference between hating someone and wishing them dead, I'm not going to be the one that tells you!" Pansy shrieked and her hair was starting to crackle a bit. Draco was really confused at her anger, and the way she spoke was not like Pansy at all. Pansy did not lose her temper at Draco, furthermore, she did not raise her voice at him. There was something wrong with the picture, but Draco could not focus on it. These thoughts subsided as he started to think about what he had said, and what Pansy had said.

Draco did not like to feel guilty, but at the same time he did. He had essentially wished his sister's best friend dead. He had not thought of it like that when he had said it, but he was being himself. He hated Granger. Hated her. He hated everything about her, her arrogance, her existence, and the way he stole his sister from him and was the reason why she would not write to him. Then again, he expected some sort of snigger from Crabbe and Goyle. There was none.

 _Of course, you cannot entirely hate someone you just tried to save_ , a snide voice said. Draco took a deep breath. He had received the mirror that Mother had sent to him for Christmas and a note to tell him of the mirror's powers. She had not sent some kind of explanation to go along with it, just the simple note. Then moments later, his Father sent him a note telling him of the Mudblood who died. Draco then just… _knew_ that he had to give it to Granger. He did not know why he _had_ to, but he just had to. It was like a compulsion that fuelled him through the day. Then he had given it to her and lied, saying it was from Lacie. He protected her.

It did not mean he could not make a blasé comment about her dying. It was a _joke_. He was being how he had always been: mean, and guilt-free. Usually Pansy revered him for that. Confusion swelled in him again. He pushed that feeling aside yet again. He turned to face Pansy and opened his mouth but then closed it stubbornly. He was not going to justify his actions. He never had to. It was Pansy's own fault for taking it too seriously. He looked over at Crabbe and Goyle and rolled his eyes, " _Girls_ , I suppose I will never understand them."

Pansy shot up and gave him a scathing look. She moved over to the other side of the Common Room and dithered. Draco hoped she was out of earshot considering that she was getting incredibly offended at everything that he said. He did not understand why she would not go back to her dormitory. Draco supposed that it was probably because she was the only girl to have stayed behind, another action that Draco still could not understand.

"Anyway, I suppose Dumbledore will not be around much longer," Draco said, ignoring Pansy. If she thought that because she was having a strop and he would chase her, she had another thought coming. "Father is organising a motion to have him suspended… lack of effort on his part."

"You can't just take Dumbledore, you'll just be giving the Heir… free-free…" Goyle said, and looked over in a direction behind him and gulped, "Mudbloods."

Had Goyle not said the word, Mudblood, Draco would have highly suspected that a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was possessing Goyle. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Of course, they are not going to depose Dumbledore _now_ ," Draco said simply, "Only when there has been more victims."

"And what good will that do?" Pansy had returned now, her hair seemed to have curled a bit at the ends, "Watch as people just drop like flies in front of us and take away the only person that could probably do something about it?"

 _Why is Pansy acting so strange?_

"Not that it is any of _your_ business, Pansy," Draco said with a glare, "Father has… I-I am sorry, but is your hair crackling?"

Pansy looked at him for a moment, and then her hand shot to her hair and a look of horror appeared across her face. She looked absolutely terrified, her gaze transfixed somewhere across the room and then she went, "Crabbe! Goyle!"

Her voice had changed by several pitches and she rushed across the Common Room, and Draco noticed that Crabbe and Goyle were by the Entrance to the Common Room. Draco stood up.

"Where are you lot going?" he demanded to know. It was odd that the three of them were suddenly leaving at the same time. Pansy was the last of them to leave, and something cluttered to the floor. She froze for a moment. Draco walked closer towards her, expecting some sort of an answer for their abrupt departure simultaneously. She bent and grabbed the silver thing, and shouted, "Hospital Wing! We'll be back soon!"

Draco stopped in his tracks and was very, very, very puzzled. There was also something strange about when Pansy left and dropped the thing on the ground. A small part of him was telling him that there was more to the thing she had dropped.

A wave of tiredness hit him as a clock struck eleven. Draco pinched his nose. He did not care for what those three were up to; in fact, he was glad that Pansy was quite literally out of hair. For now. He headed towards his own dormitory.

 _I shall leave them to it._

x-x-x-x-x

"That was a fun exercise in learning absolutely nothing," Ron complained, trying to move as fast as possible but his oversized uniform was stopping him. Hermione sighed.

"We learnt that not only has the Chamber been opened before, someone died," Hermione said, she tried to control her voice as she said the next part, "And Malfoy would very much like that to be me."

"Don't listen to him, he was being conceited as usual," Harry said. "He's just… a tosser."

Hermione smiled a little in spite of herself. "Well, at least we know that even though Malfoy isn't the Heir, the whole thing reeks of Mr Malfoy."

"How?"

"Didn't you hear Malfoy? 'Of course, they are not going to depose Dumbledore now,'" Hermione recalled, "It seems like an elaborate plan to discredit Dumbledore."

"Yeah well, Hermione, one evil wizard at a time, all right?" Ron said with a small chuckle, and then he added, "These tunnels make me sick."

"We're nearly out now," Hermione said.

"Oh, and how can you tell?" Harry asked. "We have no way of knowing how to navigate out, I can't even remember how Malfoy got in."

"Just trust me," Hermione said. There was something about these tunnels, like the maze in the garden of the Malfoy's garden that made sense to navigate back. Each step she made in the right direction felt less heavy, the pressing against her temples felt less intense.

And then they were in the Dungeon corridor. It felt like a breath of fresh air.


	11. Interlude II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Interlude II**

* * *

 _ **"Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd:  
I strove against the stream and all in vain"**_

 _Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'The Princess'_

* * *

Dear N,

The Portkey has been planted. It is an instrument of Apollo. It will be activated at midnight of the Winter Solstice and the recipient will arrive a mile North of the property.

My contact has been notified.

Yours,

Zjart.

PS. Please take good care. Enclosed is a list of items required for this calendar year.

x-x-x-x-x

Z.

She is home. I cannot express my gratefulness.

Merry Christmas,

N.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Narcissa,

If you thought for one moment that I will be joining you for Christmas, you would have another thought coming. Did you really think that after the fiasco that was Christmas dinner last year, I would feel comfortable in that environment again? As much as I value my long-term relationship with Lucius, I did not like the tone he took to Lacerta. No matter how upset he is, I am assured, he was taught better manners.

Then again, who am I to lecture Lucius Malfoy on etiquette?

As for Draco, your precious son is safe and has been. No one has considered he was the Heir for one second… well, some of the Gryffindors did… and maybe some teachers, but everyone is caught up in the idea that Potter is the Heir. Can you believe it? A second Parselmouth appearing in the short space of fifty years? Of course, I would not have believed it myself, but I was there. He was really speaking to that snake, just like the Dark Lord and… well, I, er… I digress. Your son works hard when he needs to work hard, and provides excellent marks. That is all I have to say in regards to his schoolwork. And no, I do not believe he has Theodore Nott doing his work for him, in terms of schoolwork. Believe it or not, Draco is quite intelligent but is often overshadowed by Miss Granger.

As customary, I apologise for declining your invitation. I also apologise for any snide comments you found offensive. Lucius is not the main factor of my absence, but rather, Dumbledore wishes staff to remain behind during the holidays due to the incidents. Although many students have returned home for the holidays there are a handful that could be at risk.

I hope you a good Christmas,

Severus.

PS. Am I correct in assuming that a certain… _girl_ is to return to Hogwarts, not merely just a Christmas holiday jaunt? Is this true? Are you mad to defy…? I suppose you thought of every outcome, and I-… you are a very good friend, Narcissa, but this time… I suppose it is your head, and you may do what you wish.

PPS. Again, Merry Christmas.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Severus,

I refer first to your first postscript, I am not mad. I know you may disagree considering the madness of my family lineage, but I assure you, I know what I am doing. I am not defying my husband. He loves his daughter and he loves me. I could make him… never mind, that is for another letter. I admire your rushing sentiments, and your hasty splotch of ink near it. Were you going to scribble over it? Oh, Severus! We have been friends for decades; you can call me a friend if you wish. Alas, I guess this is the best I shall get. However, could you not be more… kind in future? After all, I did - … never mind again, that too is for another letter.

As your 'good friend' I will not rush to admonish you on your impertinence upon Lucius' manners. Lucius has a traceable lineage to the dawn of the wizards, and maybe some Gods. We shall not rush to judgement on his etiquette, and we accept his manners because of his blood status. I hate that, I really do, but it is necessary for me to remind you where your place is in our social circle, Severus. Don't make me remind you again as it leaves a sour taste in my tongue for a week.

As for your refusal to attend a beautiful Malfoy Christmas, I guess it would be a lonely three-person dinner, what with Draco deciding to stay behind for the winter months. He writes fervently to his father but only simple notes to me so many times that I see green. I do not like to snoop as to see what he is saying to his father, but what I have heard from Lucius' colleagues from the school board, it looks very grim and he believes his father to know all the answers. It is sad, considering now the spotlight will be on Lacie at Christmas dinner too.

Yes, she is back. For good. I will make sure of that.

I am glad that Draco is flourishing in his studies. It is always nice for a mother to hear such news. I am even happy that Hermione – and I would prefer that you call her that too in context, Severus, she is a family friend after all – is challenging him. It only makes him a better academic in the end, considering how he always wishes to better her.

I hope that the situation in Hogwarts evens out. From the whispers I have been hearing during High Tea, the last time something similar happened a girl… a _Muggle-born_ died, is this true? Oh Merlin and above, I dear hope that this abhorrent being dare not bring harm to Hermione. Please, if it is not more of a bother – please see to it that she remains safe and sound. It would bring me peace of mind to know that when Lacie returns to Hogwarts, her best friend is still well.

Your good friend,

Narcissa.

PS. If I may be so bold to say, you too, Severus, for all intents and purposes, are too a good friend.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Draco,

I am home, and I shall be starting back at Hogwarts during the spring term.

Lacie.

x-x-x-x-x

Dad lost the inquiry, I knew that it would happen and it wasn't even his fault. It was Ron's fault, not really Harry's because he wasn't driving the car. Ron knew what would happen, and it wasn't like he was Fred and George. Ron was probably showing off for Harry.

 _He was probably just trying to get to Hogwarts under the circumstances._

No! You don't know Ron! Ever since he was little, he was showing off to anyone who would look. Showing off to Harry is just the cherry on top of everything he had ever done.

 _Sounds like you're jealous._

I'm not!

 _Anyway, I thought that Harry Potter was the type of person who everyone showed off to, even Draco Malfoy._

That's right, I understand it. I understand wanting to draw Harry's attention, the way that he would look at you with those green eyes…

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

So I guess you want to know what happened in the 'Draco Malfoy Heir Knowledge Coup' of tonight. Well, I can definitively say that a lot of things were discovered. Namely that your brother despises me so much that he would like me dead. I very nearly revealed who I was because of how calm he was when he said it, I mean, I didn't mean to be that upset about it. I thought after Lauren that I had developed some form of thick skin, but I suppose hearing that someone wants you dead, tears even the thickest skin back a few layers, I suppose. I don't even know, the strangest thing that I can't fathom is that he gave me a present (saying it was from you, but I know you haven't sent a letter to him since… well, I don't think you have really sent him a letter), for Christmas. Surely… ah! It's Malfoy and I guess I'll never be able to begin to understand your brother, I will just assume it was you. I bet even if you did come back that you'd not be able to understand him, and he's your twin!

I do wonder what Christmas is like at Beauxbatons and I suppose if I could ask you in real life, and if you could send me letters, I'd know. I suppose it's every elegant, with ice sculptures handing out drinks, and tinsel and snow. In any case, you didn't miss much. Not many people stayed this Christmas and I don't know if that is a regular thing or because everyone is too frightened to be at Hogwarts and wouldn't want to be here longer if they didn't have to be. I'm not scared though. Even if whatever it is attacking Muggleborns, attacks me and kicks me, well… I won't go down without a fight. I wouldn't with Lauren, and I suppose any Dark Creature who Petrifies can't be too much worse.

Your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Stop it!

 _I'm not doing anything._

I keep… forgetting things, I remember talking to you and everything goes fuzzy. What are you doing, Tom? Tom? What…

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Lacie,

I am glad that you're home. I am also surprised you had nothing to pass on to Granger, as well as write to her instead of me. My guess it that Father is watching your every move. I wonder what favours Mother had to pull in order to get you back, or whether you should be back at all. I do not suppose that you know but Mudbloods are getting attacked.

Don't worry though, as your precious Granger is safe from the Heir of Slytherin. For now. Mother must be mad to have you return (because Father would not want you back) and put you into this pit of snakes, when other parents are thinking of ways to pull their children out of the school. In any case, I shall not comment on Mother's sanity. I know how tetchy she can get on that topic.

Looking forward to seeing you,

Draco.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

Sorry I haven't been writing much, I've been in the library. See, what I don't understand is how Harry heard voices in the wall on the night of the Deathday Party. That voice said it wanted to _kill_ , but instead it left Mrs Norris Petrified. Harry was positive that it said it was hungry, and that it had been for so long.

The problem is that Ron and I couldn't hear the voice. I even tried pressing an ear against the wall several times after that night. There's nothing but the faint knocking and whine. I remember what you said about the voices in the wall, but Harry wasn't even pressing his ear against the wall until after he heard it the first time. He says that before that, he had heard the same voice during detention with Lockhart. I guess if I crack that riddle, a million other riddles will appear, but it's the only thing that I can solve, seeing as Malfoy doesn't know anything more than we do at the moment.

Your best friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Draco,

I am going to pretend that you never sent that last letter. Yes, I will agree that Father was less than pleased to see me, and yes, Mother and Father have been in a series of loud arguments since my arrival, so for once in the past year or so, could you be more of a brother rather than a scorned woman?

Your _sister_ ,

Lacie.

x-x-x-x-x

I'm scared. Why can't I remember breakfast, or dinner? Why do I look so tired? There is blood under my fingernails still. Tom, what is happening to me?

 _Nothing, my dear sweet Ginny. I wouldn't do anything to ever hurt you. You are my best friend, if I hurt you, who would I talk to? It's not like people are lining up to talk to me._

You're right Tom, I must just be drifting out. Percy says it may be the stress, and you do help with my schoolwork quite a bit. You're ever so clever Tom.

x-x-x-x-x

 _Why aren't you talking to me?_

No reason.

 _You're drifting away from me. It's because I'm just writing in a book isn't it?_

No, no. Tom. It's just I'm so tired. It's the strangest thing. I didn't write in you for a day…

 _Is that how long it has been?_

Yes, a day. It's odd because for that day, I didn't feel as tired. Even Gina said that I looked healthier.

 _Oh, so are you saying that I tire you? My friendship tires you?_

NO. Of course not, Tom! It's just, for one day since I came to Hogwarts I didn't feel as worn out.

 _So you're saying you're better off without me?_

I am not saying that! Please, Tom! Oh, Tom, please don't ignore me. I promise, you're my best friend! Please, please, please don't ignore me. I was just writing about my feelings. I felt really lonely when I don't talk to you, and you know that. Oh, Tom, please don't do this. You know I _need_ you.

 _Good, because I need you too, Ginny. You and me, against everyone else, one day we'll be someone that even Harry Potter notices._

Oh, Tom. You understand me so well. I'm glad you're talking to me again.

* * *

 _A/N: Updated a day early (as I update every Tuesday and Friday) as I am waaaaay too busy tomorrow to update as usual. I will still be updating the next full chapter on Friday as usual._

 _CS xo_


	12. Race the Restless Blood

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Race the Restless Blood**

* * *

"The spear of ice has wept itself away,  
And hour by hour unfolding woodbine leaves  
O'er his uncertain shadow droops the day.  
She comes! The loosen'd rivulets run;  
The frost-bead melts upon her golden hair;"

Alfred Lord Tennyson from "The Progress of Spring"

* * *

"Malfoy, just the person I am looking for," a lazy drawl superseded the babble of the Common Room. Draco, who was lounging in an armchair in the corner of the Common Room, looked up and to his dismay, Blaise was swaggering towards him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Blaise," Draco said curtly. "Has the holiday finished so soon?"

Blaise Zabini smirked, "Draco, you missed one of the greatest parties that was at the Baxendale mansion, Lizzie Baxendale has grown up beautifully."

Draco sighed, "The last time _we_ saw Lizzie Baxendale was when we were six, of course she was going to grow up looking different."

"Your sister on the other hand…"

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously at Blaise and the boy shut his fat mouth. Everyone in Slytherin House knew better to comment on Draco's sister unless they wanted hexing. Furthermore, Draco did not have the time to entertain small talk from Blaise. Blaise's expression grew cold and it took him a moment to regain composure and retort, "You are unusually sulky today, has Granger rejected your offer of being a study partner in the library again?"

Draco could hear his sharp intake of breath like it was a scream, and Pansy, to his left, gasped. Draco heard a snicker to his right and Draco shot Goyle, the perpetrator of the snicker, a glacial glare. _How had he known about the time he had spent with Granger in the library?_ He glanced over at Theo who looked equally as bemused. He turned back to look at Blaise and said through gritted teeth, "What utter tripe, Blaise."

"Really?" Zabini asked, "I hear different, I knew there was something going on from the way you stare at her across the Great Hall."

"I would not even look at her, she is nothing but a disgusting _Mudblood_ ," Draco snarled.

"You say that Malfoy - …"

Draco did not even want to hear the end of that sentence as he seethed. He sat up straight, ready to take on Blaise like he was a meagre deer.

"Draco, be - …"

"I could not give two Knuts about the annoying know-it-all," Draco said, with even more venom, ignoring Theo's warning, and he watched as Blaise's lips pulled into a smile.

"Prove it."

 _Damn._

Draco's stomach dropped. Theo had been right in warning him as Draco had fallen into some sort of trap, a trap that Blaise had probably formulated on the spot and now, Draco had to worm his way out of it. _Blaise knew exactly what to say to make Draco pounce._

"Why should I prove _anything_ to _you_?" Draco said whilst standing up.

"Fine," Blaise said smugly, "Mudblood-lover."

The insult rang through his entire body.

"Do not even dare, Blaise," Draco could barely get the words through his gritted teeth.

"What? Scared that everyone will find out?"

The taunt made his ears redden and with a cursory glance he could see people were looking at them. "I hate Granger, Blaise, everyone knows I do."

That was an exaggeration, but he was not going to be called a Mudblood-lover in front of his friends. He did like Granger, quite frankly, but he was never going to admit _that_ in the Slytherin Common Room.

"So you would not mind if we decided to play a practical joke on her?" Zabini said conspiratorially.

Draco's first reaction was to ask _what sort of practical joke_? However, he was very aware people were waiting on his answer with bated breath. Even fourth-years were watching him. Of course, being a proud Malfoy had its disadvantages. Draco knew that if he did not say something, something would be said to his father. Father already to put up with the… _shame_ that came with Lacie being Sorted into Gryffindor, he could not deal with more.

"Right… what is it?" Draco asked with a resigned voice.

x-x-x-x-x

The Christmas holidays had gone too quickly, and Hermione had been in no mood to enjoy the New Year. She was determined to find out what the monster was that was attacking Muggle-borns, and the relevance of Apollo and who was the Muggle-born that had died fifty years ago. There were too many questions that had yet to be answered and there was still a stack of homework that had yet to be completed. Thankfully, Hermione had tackled the latter earlier in the week, and it left more time to answer the outstanding questions that had surrounded her second year at Hogwarts. Knowing that today there would be more hustle and bustle in the Common Room due to students returning from the Christmas holidays, Hermione sought sanctuary in the library.

"Hermione!" Harry slid beside Hermione as she was searching for information about the Muggle-born that had died. So far, it was about four in the afternoon, and her efforts had been fruitless. There was nothing. Not even so much of a whisper from a spirited book about the Chamber of Secrets and the monster within or the girl who died. If Malfoy was right…

 _Hermione Jean Granger, don't you even dare. Malfoy is about as right as two add two being five._

"What, Harry?" Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her tired eyes ventured towards the large windows. The sky had turned a dark grey during her extensive reading and this did nothing to alleviate her mood.

"You have to come now," Harry said, bundling things into her bag, her notepaper getting crumpled under books in his haste

"I don't need those books," Hermione said as she grabbed her bag and took out the books he had shoved hastily into her bag. She placed the books on the table. "What's going on?"

"Just come quick!" Harry pulled on her sleeve, becoming antsier as time wore on. Hermione didn't understand his sudden desire to whisk her away. "Come on, Hermione, stop being so slow!"

"All right! Let me get this book checked out by…" Hermione looked up to see Madam Pince stood between two bookcases, glaring at her. Hermione, in turn, glared at Harry. "Sorry, Madam Pince."

"Sorry, Madam Pince," Harry said, widening his eyes and looking the picture of innocence.

"Mister Potter," Madam Pince said, turning her gaze towards Harry, "you are treading on some very thin ice."

"Yes, Madam Pince," he said with the ducked head of guilt. Hermione tried not to titter at his practised act, when it came to being told off by Madam Pince for making too much noise. It was much worse when Ron and Lacie were there. All three of them performed the same actions, and they were shameless about it. Well… now it was only the two of them.

"Madam Pince, I'd like to get this book checked out," Hermione held the book up for her to take. The librarian tore her gaze off Harry and glanced at the title of the book she was holding out to her.

"What business does a second-year have in medieval architecture?" Madam Pince asked shrewdly.

Harry snatched the book from Hermione's hand and slammed it on the table she had been working on, "Nothing, Madam Pince."

He grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her from the library and hurried her towards the Grand Staircase. He didn't let go until they were at least on the Fourth Floor of the staircase. Hermione rubbed her wrist and stood at the bottom of the stairs whilst Harry ran up ahead of her. He noticed that she wasn't following her and called for her, "Come on, hurry!"

"For what?"

"You'll see, come _on!_ "

Hermione let of a sound of exasperation and she climbed the staircase and hastily went on behind him when he heard her name being called. She stopped.

"Malfoy?"

Hermione watched as Malfoy sauntered from the Fourth Floor corridor. Hermione was half-tempted to run up the stairs, but she stayed rooted to the spot. "What do you want?"

"I would like us to be friends."

For some reason, Hermione could feel bile rising in her throat. It wasn't that she didn't want to be friends with Malfoy, in fact, there was a moment where Hermione was going to agree to his offer of friendship, but she had her reservations. There was a moment, a long time ago, where Lauren… she shuddered, pushing it from her mind. She cautiously nodded.

"Why?" Hermione asked, and there was suspicion in her tone.

"I just…." Malfoy rain a hand through his hair, so that several parts now stuck up, quite a change from its usual flattened state. "I love Lacie, and I just… and, over the summer, with my Father and… you know…"

"Right," Hermione said slowly and walked down the stairs towards Malfoy, "But don't you hate my guts? Don't you wish I wasn't around?" She paused, weighing up her choice of words. "Doesn't a small part of you wish that I was the next Muggle-born to be attacked by the Heir?"

Hermione watched him pale before her and he played with the edge of his sleeve, "No, I do not, Granger."

His voice was small, and he looked up at her and his cheeks went pink. He looked down again. Hermione didn't understand it, but something in her gut believed him. He confused her. One minute he was wishing her dead to his friends, and the next, protecting her with the mirror. Of course, if she brought it up now, he'd deny it with every breath in his lungs. Hermione wondered if he was pretending to be horrible about her because he thought they would appreciate it, seeing as they were pretending to be his friends. To be honest, what Hermione did was far worse when it came to Wizarding Law and Malfoy, who was simply expressing his opinions, was not as bad.

"Hermione!" Harry called her from the top of the stairs. She froze. She completely forgot that she was supposed to be following Harry to the Common Room for some unknown reason. Well, _it wasn't as if Lockhart was signing textbooks in there_. There was no particular rush.

"I'll be a minute! I've dropped a book and parchment has gone everywhere."

"Oh, well! Hurry up!" he shouted in exasperation. Hermione sighed and walked into the corridor so Harry couldn't see whom she was talking to. The last thing she wanted was Harry to size up Malfoy. Malfoy followed her into the empty corridor.

"Anything else, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, suddenly not minding that Malfoy was there. Whatever was in the Common Room probably wasn't even at all exciting. For all she knew, Seamus had found another way to set himself alight, and smoke was emanating from his ears. Not exactly what Hermione would call exciting.

He looked anxious, frightened and determined, somehow at the same time. He went into his pockets and said with a determined voice, "Mother had these imported from France. She asked me to share."

Malfoy held out a packet with three small chocolate balls to Hermione's surprise, "Oh?"

"They are freshly made truffles, probably only made yesterday, and they have to be eaten quite soon, or they… will not taste as nice," Malfoy said, almost urging her.

"Right, well, thank you," Hermione said awkwardly but as she went to put them in her pocket but Malfoy motioned for her to stop.

"You should eat them now," he said rather persistently, and Hermione faltered.

 _Was this going to be a practical joke? Were the truffles small balls of dragon dung?_ Hermione eyed them dubiously. She brought them closer to her nose, and gave them a cursory sniff. Instead of a pungent smell, she could smell a delightful chocolate scent. It smelt like a chocolate dessert that Grandmother Granger would often make when she and her cousins visited her.

However, Malfoy's persistence deterred her from eating them, she could have ate them later. She narrowed her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see your face, when you realise that these truffles are the tastiest things you have ever eaten in your Mud…" he stopped his retort mid-word and swallowed, "your life."

"I think…"

x-x-x-x-x

Harry stomped impatiently on the Sixth Floor, watching the stairs move again. They had missed a chance to get to the Common Room _again_. Harry peered over the bannister to see Hermione. He couldn't see anything.

"Hermione!" Harry called down, to where she was stood before. It was typical. The one day that there was something genuinely exciting going on and Hermione was going to miss all the fun. Well, she wasn't going to _miss_ it exactly, but she could be quicker. Harry couldn't wait to see her face when she saw...

It took Harry longer than usual to realise that there was no reply. _Funny_ , he thought to himself, _that was at least a minute._

"Hermione!" Harry shouted a bit louder and strained his ears to listen for a reply. Aside from the rustling of the portraits, there was nothing. Had Hermione disappeared?

Suddenly, Harry went cold and that unwelcome feeling shot through his body. _No, it can't be._ He ran down the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time, jumping haphazardly and _just_ making certain moving stairs. He was at the Fourth Floor within a minute, hoping that he wouldn't see Hermione… he shook the thought out of his head immediately. She was going to be fine. She was… he rounded a corner into the corridor and his heart battered his ribcage with increasing intensity.

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled out, running towards her fallen figure, frozen with foam poking out from her blue lips. She was still with her pupils were dilated to the size of her irises. She was unmoving. Harry shook her in disbelief, as he was unable to comprehend what had happened to her. He hadn't heard a thing. Tears, hot and wet slipped down his face. He could have saved her! With every petrification he had heard the disembodied voice, yet his excitement and lack of attention led to _this_. Harry had to get her to the Hospital Wing. Maybe because it was early Madam Pomfrey could do something. Hermione didn't look like any of the others who had been petrified.

Using all the strength he could summon, he tried to lift her up, but he couldn't manage to do it. He wasn't strong enough! He pulled her limp body up, so he could try and get her to the Hospital Wing, which was on the same floor. He only needed to make it down the corridor. Pulling her arm over his shoulder, and grabbing her waist, he dragged Hermione along. Harry would never say this about her aloud but she was _heavy_. He didn't know how to put her on his back, where it might be easier, but slowly he managed to take a few more steps.

Sweat formed under his thick, messy hair. He distracted his thoughts of worry with anger. Rage at who had done this to one of his best friends. His thoughts went briefly to Malfoy, who had sent her to the Hospital Wing last year, but there was… _he isn't the Heir of Slytherin_ … he wanted Hermione to be the next victim, _did he lure her to the Heir?_

"HELP!" Harry shouted, feet away from the Hospital Wing door, Hermione's feet were dragging along the floor, and her unconscious body was slipping slightly under his grip. Harry steadied himself, pulled her up, and kept on going, "HELP!"

The door to the Hospital Wing opened slightly and relief washed as the silhouette of the matron peered at him. Harry could barely shout for help for the third time as his throat had constricted. Madam Pomfrey bounded out, rushing to his side immediately, taking the other side of Hermione and helping carry her into the safety of the Hospital Wing.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco ran, down flights of stairs, down, down, down. As he found himself in the Dungeons of the school, his legs buckled slightly. He held onto the wall and heard his breath come out in quick gasps. It felt as if a cold sweat now covered his skin. A lump had formed in his throat. Calm footsteps could be heard behind him. _I am going to be sick._

"Well, well, well, Malfoy," a voice rebounded off the stone walls, "You outdid yourself."

Draco launched himself at Blaise. He was angry. Sick. Scared. He grabbed the lapels of his robes and pushed him against the wall. "What did you put in those truffles?"

"It was not as if I put Belladonna in them," Blaise said coolly. Draco did not know where he summoned the strength from, but he pulled Blaise ever-so-slightly away from the wall and pushed him harder into it.

"What was in those truffles?" Draco's voice was a deadly snarl. Zabini's smug expression dropped and Draco appreciated the fear in his eyes.

"Doxy venom, is not not too toxic, _I swear_ ," Blaise said quietly. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"You could have killed her!" Draco hissed, "You do realise that this was not just some ordinary prank?"

" _We_ could have killed her," Blaise said, smugness now ebbing in his voice. "Do not forget you had much more involvement than I did in this."

Draco went cold. Blaise had planned it out so that Draco would get implicated, and take the blame for everything. If Granger so much as whispered his name… _Father._ Blaise used Draco's hesitation to push him back with as much force as to make Draco stumble and almost trip over his robes. Blaise walked confidently down the corridor towards the Common Room.

"Do not worry Draco, Doxy venom does have an amnesiac effect," Blaise said, pausing and looking at him over his shoulder, "If _you_ do not say anything, _I_ will not either."

Draco forced himself not to shudder at the threatening tone of Blaise's words.

"What in Merlin's name is your damage, Blaise?" Draco asked, his heart was refusing to slow down, it was still racing from running all the way down to the Dungeons. Blaise's face hardened for a moment before he hung his head.

"Mother's bloody engaged again, and I am slightly displeased by this development," Blaise answered. "I thought that this time she would be a bit more bloody discreet."

Draco knew Blaise's mother was a sore spot with her son, and her whirlwind marriages had always been a cause for embarrassment for Blaise. He felt sorry for him for a moment, but realised that this was no excuse for him to use Draco as a pawn in his game to feel better, Lacie would…

 _Lacie would call me a hypocrite; do I not do the same with Granger?_

"You are a prick, Zabini," Draco spat at Blaise. Blaise smirked.

"You are no better, Malfoy."

He turned on his heel and walked away. As Blaise rounded a corner, Draco punched the wall and he felt the unevenness of the stone against his knuckles as he sunk to his knees. He wanted to cry. He had never done something quite so _cruel_ before. He was not like that. It was a complete front. Everything was a front. He could hear Granger's chokes in the recesses of his subconscious. He would have nightmares over what he did. He leant his head against the wall, temptation to run to where he had left her overwhelmed him, but he was still.

They would be suspicious if he went back. He closed his eyes. _Granger looking at him with a kind smile. Granger putting the truffle in her mouth. Granger's surprise and her delighted face, which was a face, that seemed to make the sun shine on the Fourth Floor. Then seconds later, the sound of her choking, the colour draining out of her face and the sight of Granger falling onto a wall and sliding down it to the ground._ He could not stop his head recounting the sounds of her choking, and the sight of foam coming from her mouth. She could hear her plea for help reverberate through him. He felt nauseous, a feeling that was crawling up his throat.

 _I have no guilt. I have no regrets. I am a clean slate. Everything is wiped clean._ Draco thought of the candle, the candle of emotions and blew it out as hard as he could in his mind. It was just mindless fun. The venom was not very toxic. She would not die. Even if she was stuck in the Hospital Wing, it only meant she was safe from the Heir of Slytherin. She would not die. There was nothing to worry about. She would get better. She would be in classes to irritate him soon. It will be fine. Everything was fine. _I do not even like her. She is nothing but a dirty Mudblood._

He stood up with his new resolve, shrugged his shoulders and walked to the Common Room.

As he stepped through the door, he was acutely aware that people were looking at him. Finding Theo in the corner of the Common Room, he strode across, as if it actually did own everything in the room.

"Are you alright?" Theo asked quietly, making eye contact with him momentarily before looking down. Draco took a slow but deep breath, knowing that people were waiting for his response with bated breath.

"Spectacular, Theo," Draco said with a small smirk. He looked across at _his_ seat next to Pansy and narrowed his eyes at Blaise. Pansy prodded Blaise to move for Draco. There was a shuffling of people and Draco sat down and smiled at Pansy. She blushed in response.

"Are you really fine, Draco?" Pansy whispered. "We heard what happened."

"Pansy," Draco sighed, "I _told_ you that I do not even _like_ Granger."

He looked over at Blaise who had a sour look on his face and Draco grinned at him. Blaise's sour look only deepened. Continuing to smile, Draco spoke to Zabini with a sickly sweet tone, "Ever get me involved in something as immature as a prank _again_ , Zabini, and I will drop you faster than you can say 'Doxy'"

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione stirred. Everything felt so strange, as if someone had cracked a large egg and the yolk was running down her body. The first thing she noticed was the dryness of her mouth, the prickly sensation of her tongue. She could barely gulp as her throat was swollen.

"Madam Pomfrey! She's waking up!" a concerned voice was above her. Something let go of her hand. Hermione coughed, her head moving forward and her eyes popped open. She could see the school matron above her, twirling her wand, muttering something under her breath.

"Wa…ter…" Hermione gasped, her mouth felt uncomfortable.

"Not right now, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey's voice floated around her, and she could barely hear what she was saying. She could hear sounds of disapproval. A moment later, something was pushed into her mouth.

"Drink up, Hermione," a soft voice commanded. Hermione sipped on the straw and a beverage tasting of lavender filled her mouth. Hermione wanted to spit it out as it was a strange, alien taste but her body didn't allow her to. She swallowed. Her mouth was grateful for the drink and it seemed too soon that she had finished the drink.

"Get well soon, Hermione," the soft voice said, wobbling slightly. The straw was taken out of her mouth and soon it was replaced by another straw. This drink tasted of nothing. Even water had a taste, but this drink had the sensation of a liquid but it did not have any sort of flavour at all.

Soon, Hermione felt herself drifting. The murmurs around her became quieter and quieter and dulled to a blackening quiet.

x-x-x-x-x

"… The prognosis doesn't look good, Albus, the venom isn't passing through her system as expected… I fear…"

"Cor aut mors, Miss Granger, remember that, and take the harder path," a kind voice said by her side.

"Albus…"

"I will have to notify her parents tomorrow…"

"If she doesn't get any better, she'll have to go to St. Mungo's…" Hermione recognised Madam Pomfrey's voice and it was getting sterner. "I'm sorry, Albus."

"Fawkes…"

"Fawkes is being worn down to make the Mandrake solution more effective, Doxy venom…"

"Fawkes will be fine, Poppy! Phoenix tears have amazing capabilities, you of all people should know that…"

"Yes, Albus, but you must realise I'm doing my best given the circumstances."

A sigh. "I know, Poppy. The events of this school year have been demanding, first Petrifications and now a Doxy poisoning, I do not want the students to fear a place that should be a second home."

"I understand, Albus… I understand."

x-x-x-x-x

"Have you heard? Hermione Granger…"

" _Petrified? No…"_

"Apparently… no one's seen her, especially with Lacerta Malfoy."

" _Lacerta Malfoy's back? I thought she was expelled!"_

Lacie could hear the murmuring about her, and Hermione on the first day of term at Hogwarts. She shot the whispering third-years a look that paled them and they hurried away. She could barely contain her contempt as she walked towards the Great Hall.

"Why are people not content with their own lives and so they must talk about other people?" Lacie asked Harry in a curt voice. Harry did not respond to her, he simply stared at her and blushed when she noticed him doing it. " _What_ , Potter?"

That seemed to make him smile slightly, "Since when did you call me Potter?"

"Since you have barely spoken to me on my return," Lacie replied wryly. "Then again, I suppose we have little to talk about."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but to Lacie's disappointment, he closed it and did not say anything.

"Do you know who did it?" Lacie asked quietly, hoping Harry would have remembered something else, something insignificant yet important. Professor McGonagall had spoken to him at length over the incident. No one had seen or heard anything. No portraits either. If someone did know something about it, they were not speaking. It sounded so oddly _Slytherin._ Lacie did not want to even process the next thought, _Draco_. Draco could play pranks, Lacie was too familiar with them, but he would not knowingly poison someone with _Doxy venom_. That was something that was not playful or fun, Lacie knew that Draco would not play with fire if he could get burned.

 _Doxy venom can cause amnesia,_ a snide voice whispered. Lacie pushed it out of her mind. She knew her brother, and even he had boundaries that he did not cross.

"I blame myself," Harry said all-too-honestly and quietly, "I shouldn't have rushed ahead."

Lacie stopped, whirling to face Harry, he flinched expecting wrath, but Lacie smiled. "You could not have known."

"I should have been at her side."

"Harry," Lacie said, her tone was angrier than she had expected, "Do not blame yourself, and instead blame the person who poisoned her. Blame the person who thought it would be funny to almost kill my best friend. You tried to save her life, Harry, you are the most blameless person in all of this."

Harry's eyes widened under his spectacles for a moment, and his cheeks went pinker. He did not say anything to her, but he rushed off in search of breakfast. Lacie followed. Her thoughts consumed her, fearing slightly that it was Draco who had poisoned Hermione.

Lacie could see seventh-years gaping at her as she entered the Great Hall. On the Gryffindor table, she noticed Ron talking fervently to Neville, whose cheeks had gotten slightly rounder in her absence. Ron spotted them and waved slightly causing people around him to look. Lavender Brown nudged Parvati and Cheryl leaned in to whisper something. Lacie rolled her eyes.

"I have some things to do," Lacie said quickly to Harry, "I will see you in a moment."

With that, Lacie determinedly went in the direction of the Slytherin Table, rushing past interested faces and stopping only behind her twin. Pansy Parkinson almost spilled her pumpkin juice over herself in shock at the sight of her. Lacie gave her a pointed look and she shifted over, leaving a space for her next to Draco. Lacie climbed into the bench and sat beside her brother.

"Morning," she said brightly, taking the toast from his fingers and bit into it. It was a childhood habit of hers, one that Draco had never appreciated. Draco glared tiredly at her, before reaching for another slice of toast.

"Lacie." The greeting was cold, short and very… _sulky_.

"You would not happen to know what happened to Hermione, do you?" Lacie didn't bother with social niceties that were expected of her after seeing her brother for the first time in months. She wanted to know something _now_ and she wasn't going to go around in circles to find her answer.

"And good morning to you too," Draco replied as he spread butter over his toast, "Did you have a nice train journey back to Hogwarts?"

"I asked first."

Lacie tapped her fingers against the dark wood of the table as she waited for an answer. Her brother was taking his merry time in answering her, and even took a bite of his toast. Lacie could feel frustration build in her, but refused to let it get the better of her. Draco chewed slowly before swallowing. "No. What happened to her?"

"Poisoned with Doxy venom, not _Petrified_ like everyone seems to think," Lacie said emphatically and briskly, hoping that Draco would reply in the same manner, "Are you sure you know nothing anything about it?"

Her voice was filled expectantly with hope, praying to Merlin that Draco had nothing to do with Hermione's poisoning. He would not. It was against her better judgement, but Lacie had faith in her brother. It may only be scraps of faith but it was still there.

"Where am I going to get Doxy venom from?" Draco asked lazily, "I have been at Hogwarts since September, and I did not go home for the holidays."

Lacie's sigh of relief came out involuntarily. Draco raised an eyebrow as he ate his breakfast, causing Lacie to explain herself, "The person who did it may as well have killed her."

Lacie noticed Draco freeze slightly and said cautiously, "Draco?"

"Sorry," said Draco briskly, setting the crusts of his toast on his plate, "I once said something silly about Granger dying, _but it was a joke_." Draco must have noticed her tightening face.

"Because a Muggleborn _died_ the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened?" Lacie hissed, garnering attention from the breakfasters around them, all of whom who had stopped eating in fear that their own chewing would be too loud to hear their conversation. "That is not funny, Draco, you should not have said it. How awful would you have felt if she was attacked and really died?"

"I would not care."

Lacie shot Draco a look, and wanted to reprimand him and throw some childish insults at him but thought better of it. She moved closer to her brother, so that her mouth was beside his ear and whispered, "You can lie to your friends, and to Father and maybe even yourself, but you will never be able to lie to me."

Her brother did not respond. There was an awkward pause, as her childhood friends turned enemies watched them. Although polar opposites, people seemed to focus on their similarities, which Lacie was starting to see that there were less and less of. Lacie let out an irritated, held-in breath. "So who is this Heir of Slytherin that I keep hearing of? Have I really been away _that_ long, because I am positive there is no such Heir."

"I do not know, Lace, but I can assure you that I am not the Heir of Slytherin attacking people," Draco sighed at her, "Contrary to popular opinion."

Lacie rolled her eyes, throwing her half-eaten toast onto Draco's plate and wiped her hands on an emerald napkin. She pulled on her tie in front of Draco and grinned.

"Of course you are not the Heir, because then I would also be an Heir of Slytherins and I doubt that Godric would welcome me with open arms into his own house."

"Heiress."

"What?"

Draco sighed. "You would be an _Heiress_ of Slytherins, Lacie, I know you have been in France for several months, but we were still raised bilingual."

Lacie responded by blowing a raspberry.

"Did Beauxbatons fail to teach you grace?" Draco asked, a smile forming at the edge of his lips.

"I _have_ grace - …" Lacie retorted but she was interrupted by the very stern Professor McGonagall. Lacie had not forgotten her too quickly during her time at Beauxbatons and her History of Dance teacher, Professor Aurélie, had the same firm attitude to her students.

"Have you forgotten what House you were Sorted into, Miss Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall asked with pursed lips.

"No, Professor," Lacie answered and gave another half-hearted tug at her red-and-gold tie, "I was giving my brother the pleasure of my presence, seeing as he missed me ever so much."

Professor McGonagall did not look amused. However, she could not look too angry, considering it was the one of the only times that the Malfoy twins were not sparring.

"Here, Miss Malfoy," the Professor said wearily, handing over a piece of parchment, "Your timetable, you'll notice two hours of remedial classes with Professor Cornwall at the end of each day, in order to make sure you will complete this years syllabus in time for the exams."

Lacie sighed. _An extra two hours per weekday?_ She had so many classes in Beauxbatons added with extra ballet, art and French classes, that it had left her exhausted at the end of every day. She noticed no remedial classes on the weekends, which was comforting. She had hated the five hours of compulsory ballet she had attended every weekend at Beauxbatons. She had been ranked an Intermediate, much to the chagrin of her classmates. To them, a 12 year-old dancing with 15 year-old girls was an insult, especially because she was _anglaise_. Miss Belle-Faire had taught her well. She forced herself out of her reverie.

"Yes, Professor," Lacie said to the waiting Professor.

"Good. You might want to finish breakfasting soon," she warned the people in the vicinity, "Lessons start in a few minutes and Mister Malfoy, as much as it pleases me to hear that you have missed your sister dearly, I won't be sympathetic if you are late to my class."

She whirled around quickly before stopping a little and turning. Saying with a content smile, "Welcome back, Miss Malfoy. It's been quite quiet without you causing chaos within my House."

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione felt an odd sensation of falling, but she wasn't falling anywhere, she was still in bed. Sunlight seemed to dance through her closed eyes. Hermione could feel a spider crawling up her arm. Hermione jerked awake and the ceiling above her was a bright white that she winced. Her mouth was parched, but this wasn't an unusual sensation. Every time Hermione seemed to come out of darkness and into a haze, her mouth felt sandpapery.

"Hermione?" there was a tired yawn.

For the first time in her periods of haze and darkness, the haze seemed to dissipate. She had hard flickers of conversation, for a moment she thought she had heard her fathers struggling voice near her mother's sobs. Hermione blinked. She recognised that voice that just said her name. She had heard that voice several times through the haze.

"Miss Granger," an older voice spoke out, and she knew this was the voice of Madam Pomfrey.

Something was poking into her mouth and she drank, the lavender liquid once more. Even after drinking it, her throat felt raw.

"Thanks…" she whispered hoarsely. It felt like the first time that she had spoken in weeks. Years even. How long had she even been asleep? Was it really years? "What year is it?"

She had spoken before she had even processed that thought. It was a silly thought. She definitely hadn't been in a haze for several years. There was a giggle and she felt her hand in someone else's and it was brushing against something soft.

"I'll get the Grangers!" another voice called out. This voice had been in the haze too, although, less frequently. Not as frequent as the soft one that had said her name. She could see Madam Pomfrey with her wand, above her, murmuring a little. A few moments later, she stopped and a small smile graced her face, making it appear years younger.

"The venom has passed out of your bloodstream. You are a very lucky girl, Miss Granger," she said brightly, "Would you like some help sitting up?"

Hermione nodded, confused, _am I in the Hospital Wing? Why? What happened?_ Snippets of conversations passed through her mind but they were too faded to remember. She could remember voices. That was all. She remembered a conversation about phoenix tears. Madam Pomfrey sat at her bedside and helped her up, adjusting her pillows as she went. She was placed in a bed that was curtained. An array of flowers and cards were on her bedside table. People must thought she was Petrified. In fact, had she been Petrified? She couldn't remember anything. She glanced around and saw something that made her heart leap out of her chest.

"Lacie?" Hermione croaked. This was a dream. It had to be.

"Oh, Hermione!" Lacie said crying slightly, "Thank Merlin you have woken up!"

* * *

 _A/N: Yay, Lacie's back._

 _If you have no idea how Lacerta Malfoy plays into this story - Give Bright Star a read. The cliffsnotes version: She's the pureblooded twin of Draco Malfoy and the best friend of Hermione Granger. Complicated? Complicated._

 _I apologise for not updating yesterday [Friday] and I will not be updating on Tuesday because I have an assignment deadline on Wednesday [my masters course is brutal, they ask for four 4000 word assignments due on the same day so it's a lot of work] but it will be back to normal the Friday after! Thanks for your patience!_

 _CS xo_


	13. Troop of Damsels Glad

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Troop of Damsels Glad**

* * *

No time hath she to sport and play:  
A charmed web she weaves alway.  
A curse is on her, if she stay  
Her weaving, either night or day,

 **Alfred Lord Tennyson, from 'The Lady of Shallot'**

* * *

"Are you sure have no recollection at all?" Lacie pushed. Hermione had never experienced not being able to remember something. She really didn't remember who poisoned her. She could barely remember enough to tell Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape or Madam Pomfrey. She had been questioned for hours. The only thing that she was sure of was that she had been in the library, but even that was slightly difficult to remember and she only knew that because Harry had told her.

"No, I can't remember a thing," Hermione said. Truthfully, she was incredibly bored. She had been in the Hospital Wing for almost a week now and the ten days before that she had been unconscious. She had work brought to her in the Hospital Wing so that she didn't miss out on a thing. Lacie spent most of her spare time in the Hospital Wing; so much so, it led to Madam Pomfrey bringing her lunch and dinner. However, this still didn't sate her boredom. It wasn't like going from class to class and seeing what mischief the Weasley twins had gotten up to in her absence.

Furthermore, helping Lacie was more like revision, the thought of revising for the exams ahead hadn't even crossed her mind yet. Hermione immersed herself in listening to stories from Lacie about her day at Hogwarts, and how much she already disliked Lockhart, to Hermione's chagrin. She had always hoped that her best friend would have the same intrigue in the Professor that Hermione did.

It was embarrassing when Lacie found the get-well card from Lockhart that Hermione had hidden under her pillow and made fun of it. However, Lacie snarled at anyone who mocked her card, which made Hermione smile. It was surprising how much she had missed Lacie's presence. For the first few days, Hermione and Lacie talked and talked but as schoolwork piled up, they spent more time doing homework (with Hermione helping out in some parts) and soon there was a small Hospital Wing Homework group comprising of Hermione, Lacie, Ron and Harry.

"I think Uncle Sev misses you," Lacie said absentmindedly as she scribbled something on a piece of parchment.

"I think you're insane," Hermione said stifling a giggle as Hermione turned a page.

"I know you think I am insane," Lacie muttered. "I just think Uncle Sev misses having to give points to Gryffindor."

"You act as if he casually gave out points in the first place," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Although, he looks really sad that he isn't able to call someone an insufferable know-it-all anymore."

Lacie flinched and looked tentatively at Hermione, but Hermione laughed, much to the surprise of her friends. They had paused at what they were doing, but they collectively went back at their work. Over the time that they had been there, they had been whispering about the Petrifications, although it was difficult because of Madam Pomfrey constantly tending to the Petrified. Lacie had, once, snuck behind the curtains to see what a Petrified person looked like, and she came back looking pale.

"This is barely work," Lacie complained as she read through Lockhart's lavish books. "I thought I would be really behind in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but this is…"

"Learning about Lockhart's voyages and adventures is not _easy_ ," Hermione stressed. "It's very interesting and what he's done has been incredibly brave."

Lacie pulled a face, "Or it could be lies, I once read a journal article that outlined the same thing as _Voyages with Vampires_ , but it was discredited because the author said he could not remember doing it."

Hermione sighed. Lacie was probably overcompensating her studies for Defence, because she was incredibly behind on it and because they didn't study Defence in Beauxbatons until the students were much older. In fact, they did an entirely different curriculum, which was to be expected. However, Hermione did snicker at some of her compulsory subjects. She had studied Magical History of Art and Magical History of Dance in the first two years and in spite of the subjects being so very _Lacie_ , she had hated them with a passion. She had also studied Divination, which Hermione slightly jealous because that was a third-year subject at Hogwarts.

"Maybe because he realised it was Lockhart who had done it," Hermione said absently, marking stars on her Astronomy homework.

"No," Lacie said in a dramatic whisper, "It was first written fifteen years ago, but because of the Dark Lord, they could not follow up until about five years ago, and that was before this book was published."

"Lockhart did this," Ron said sadly, "Sorry, there is no acting that level of superiority when it comes to what he did."

"Or there is very good acting," Lacie retorted. "Sorry, there is something about Lockhart that I just do not like. There has to be some level of deceit somewhere in him, I just…"

There was an odd look in her eyes as she stared at nothing in particular. Hermione prodded her in the arm and Lacie looked away reluctantly, her brows furrowed. She suddenly jumped out of her trance and returned to her work. Hermione frowned. She wasn't the only person to notice that there was something extremely odd about Lacie since she had returned from Beauxbatons. Hermione wasn't sure of what it was, but there was something different, aside from the way she parted her hair or how much taller she had gotten.

Madam Pomfrey popped around the curtain that was around her bed with a plate of sandwiches. Behind her, was a floating pitcher, and Hermione suspected that it had pumpkin juice in. They were placed on a table at the end of her bed. Madam Pomfrey had been uncharacteristically accommodating when it came to Lacie, Harry and Ron, allowing them to stay beyond visiting hours and giving them food.

"Hermione, if you're feeling well enough tomorrow, you can attend classes again," Madam Pomfrey said with a smile, "Everything looks fine and all traces of the poison are gone. The antidote seems to have worked brilliantly."

"Really?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Yes, however, you must spend one last night here. I'll ask someone bring your uniform and books for tomorrow."

Hermione nodded. Madam Pomfrey continued, "Miss Malfoy, Mister Potter and Mister Weasley, I trust you not to make a mess."

Hermione suspected that Madam Pomfrey secretly liked having people to care for, she had to otherwise she wouldn't be a nurse. Madam Pomfrey had warmed up to her over the time she had been in the Hospital Wing even being comfortable to call her Hermione, informally. When Hermione left, Madam Pomfrey had beds full of patients who did not need her care, and they only needed to be watched over, a job that must be incredibly lonely. Hermione found out later, that Madam Pomfrey had spent a lot of time when Hermione was unconscious, talking to her parents.

Hermione hadn't realised that her poisoning had been so severe that she they called her parents. She had suspected so, although not knowing why, that they had been told. It was also incredibly strange as there were measures within the walls of Hogwarts to make sure that Muggles couldn't see the castle and grounds – a fact that she had found out in her copy of the _Hogwarts: A History_ that her parents had sent her over Christmas. Her parents had gone now, feeling better as soon as the poison was withdrawing from her system and that she had woken up.

Madam Pomfrey left them to their dinner, a plate of refilling sandwiches and the pitcher of refilling pumpkin juice as they talked animatedly about classes. They hadn't dared to near the topic of the Chamber of Secrets and what they had done over Christmas, fearing that Madam Pomfrey would overhear. The promise of Hermione being able to leave the Hospital Wing the next morning meant that it was a topic that would be fresh to air out, and complete any details Lacie lacked.

As they ate and worked, the lights of the Hospital Wing got brighter as the sky outside got darker. Soon, Harry, Lacie and Ron were packing up their things and were ready to go to a late Astronomy lesson. Hermione felt a pang of jealousy, but in spite of her feelings, she was going to be good and sleep the night away in preparation to attend classes the next day. She watched with content as her friends gave her parting look before they left. Madam Pomfrey came to collect the plate of sandwiches and the pitcher. She returned soon after and gave her a green drink. The infamous lavender flavoured drink.

It was odd, but it was delicious. However, Hermione didn't know why she was still drinking the antidote if all traces of the poison were gone.

"It's a precaution," Madam Pomfrey said softly.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, after she had handed the empty goblet back to the nurse.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can you hear people if you're petrified?"

Madam Pomfrey regarded her for a moment but her face got quite stony. "I don't know, Hermione."

"Do they just go to sleep?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed, "Why do you want to know?"

Hermione fidgeted with her bed sheets and hid behind her hair to answer. "I'm a Muggleborn too, it could be me next."

Hermione could feel the matron sit on the bed, but she didn't look at her. She was scared. She had been poisoned and confined in a bed of the Hospital Wing. She didn't want to return as if she was a statue. The Petrified figures of Colin and Justin scared her and she didn't want to be like them. There was another sigh.

"Some say it's like falling asleep and dreaming, some say it's a recurring nightmare and some say that it's just darkness," Madam Pomfrey explained, "Maybe a Petrified person can hear you, but to them, it would probably be part of their dream. They're frozen in a fixed moment in their life, so maybe they relive the event, over and over. No one really knows, but if you are Petrified, Hermione, there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of."

Hermione nodded, trying not to think of the Petrified people that were curtained beyond her curtains.

"Would you like some help sleeping?" Madam Pomfrey asked, and she probably had a small dosage of a sleeping potion prepared. Hermione shook her head. She had been too reliant on it. Madam Pomfrey stood up, moved slightly as if she was going to tuck her into bed, but she resisted and bade her goodnight. Hermione closed her eyes thinking of Madam Pomfrey's words, a small fear running up her spine. She had been quite afraid of being Petrified, and often thought about it. She couldn't think about anything else when she was surrounded by people who were Petrified. _It could be me next_. She pushed the thought out of her mind. Instead, she tried to remember what had happened the day of her poisoning. She went through what she thought happened. Breakfast. Library. Harry. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was a hole in her mind.

It was a hole that if she thought long and hard enough about, she dozed and fell into a deep sleep.

X-x-x-x-x

It was always a given that people stared for no reason. When she went into the Great Hall, she was on the receiving end of gaping stares and some people looked behind it. Lacie had been right. People had assumed that because she was a _Muggleborn_ she had been Petrified. She looked past the stares and walked towards the Gryffindor table.

Soon she reached her peers. Lavender, Parvati and Cheryl looked at her wide-eyed before one of them whispered something and they started to mutter fervently under their breaths, occasionally looking at her. Seamus raised an eyebrow and nudged Dean for his attention. Dean smiled brightly at her, a smile that she returned. Neville gulped and gave her a shy smile. Hermione nodded at him in recognition, an act that caused him to blush a little.

"Are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand there like a lemon?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes before yelping. "I was _joking_!"

"Do you hear me laughing?" Lacie hissed at him before turning to Hermione with a pearly-white grin, "How are you feeling today? Sick? Tired? Sad you have to go to lessons?"

Hermione laughed as she sat next to her and didn't answer her. They talked a little about the previous nights Astronomy lesson before they had to hurry to class. Again, Hermione was on the receiving end of intrusive stares.

Hermione realised at break time that people weren't actually staring at her. They were staring at Lacie. It was an odd thought considering Lacie had returned for about two weeks now, but Hermione could understand why they were staring at her. She had been gone three months in comparison to Hermione's paltry week in the Hospital Wing, but there was something different. She sat a little straighter. Her eyes were a little bit greyer. Her body was lithe, fragile but muscular at the same time, a result of her strenuous ballet training. Her hair was longer and blonder. Hermione remembered the first time that she had ever seen Lacie, and remembered comparing her to that of royalty. If she had looked like a royal a year ago, she deserved the title of one more than she did last year. She sometimes responded in French, not realising she was at Hogwarts which caused titters around the class. It wasn't long before Hermione heard whispers of conversations that concerned Lacie's return.

 _Have you heard? Lacerta Malfoy was expelled from Beauxbatons, and has returned with her tail between her legs, serves her right for thinking that she was better than all of us. I heard that it was because she learned how to French kiss, and she focused on boys more than her studies. Really? Because I heard that it was because she paid for her marks, because she can't speak French. I heard she was expelled because she bullied a Muggleborn out of a place in the Beauxbaton ballet troupe. I heard she broke the Muggleborns leg. She is such a hypocrite! All Malfoys are hypocrites._

None of it was true. However sometimes the rumours were vicious, and Lacie didn't do anything but give the whisperers a snooty look and walk off. Sometimes Hermione was tempted to say something but she didn't want to fuel the rumours. People loved to believe the worst in people, and when that person was Lacie… given her weak start at the beginning of the previous year, they revelled in listening to tales of her.

At lunchtime, instead of listening to the horrid things that were coming out of the mouths of the people around them, Hermione decided to drag Lacie out into the few rays of sunshine emerging from the clouds in vain hope that the sunshine may alleviate her mood. She found herself leading Lacie, Harry and Ron to a courtyard, where Ginny Weasley was sitting alone on a stone bench. Her ginger hair covered her face as she fidgeted with her wand, twirling it in around her fingers as she read a textbook.

"Have you met Ron's sister, Ginny?" Hermione asked Lacie, deciding at that precise moment to talk to Ginny.

Lacie turned, almost horror-stricken, towards Ron, "You have a _sister_? How many of you Weasleys are there?"

Ron gave her a dark look and muttered under his breath, "Leave it, Malfoy."

It had been so quiet that Hermione suspected that she was the only person who had heard him.

Hermione elbowed Lacie side with a frown, "Lacie!"

" _What?_ Do you not all live in a single bedroom?" Lacie asked.

"My house might not be as big as your Mansion - …"

"Manor."

" _Lacie_."

Ron cleared his throat, "Manor, _I don't care_ , but my house is big enough, and I don't care what your bonehead brother says, we don't live in one room."

There was an awkward silence, to which Harry decided to add with a shrug, "It's a tall house."

"Also, my brothers live in Romania and Egypt, which means we all have our own rooms… except Fred and George but they like sharing," Ron told Lacie. Lacie rolled her eyes.

"For once, your family sounds interesting, Weasley."

Hermione shook her head at Ron, hoping he'd understand that that was the best compliment he was going to get out of her. Hermione linked arms with Lacie and strode out into the courtyard and with a bright beam, "Hello, Ginny."

The redhead almost dropped her book in fright and looked up at Hermione. There was something in her expression that made Hermione falter for a moment, but it soon disappeared.

"Hello, Hermione," she said tiredly, the dark rings around her eyes illustrating a restless night. She turned to Lacie. "You must be Lacie Malfoy, your reputation precedes you."

"Was it the snooty look or was it that I permanently look menacing?" Lacie asked bitterly, "as if I am about to break your leg?"

"Ginny doesn't believe the rumours, do you Ginny?" Hermione asked kindly, looking at Ginny, who had gone quite red.

"I don't," Ginny answered, "I knew you before the rumours, Ron says you're quite pretty… and you are…"

"I did not!" Ron exclaimed as he approached. The colour drained out of face. He shot his sister a glare. Hermione giggled at Ginny's admission. It was more than likely that it had been a joke, but _who would have thought that Ron said something complimentary about Lacie?_

Lacie pretended as if she hadn't heard what Ginny has said. Hermione knew that later in the Girl's Dormitory, there would be a heated whispered conversation about its validity and how ' _Ronald Weasley is not my type'._

"I hope I never find out who started those ridiculous rumours," Lacie said in a low voice.

"Or you'll what? Get a detention and possibly lose Gryffindor a hundred housepoints in the process?" Ron snapped. He was obviously still irritated by the quip that his sister had made about him and was overcompensating for it. Harry, beside him, rolled his eyes.

"I'd show them that their rumours are just fictitious, and hopefully prove them wrong," Lacie replied, equally as snappy.

"Good for them that you won't find out who they would be, Hogwarts is a big place," Hermione sighed, sitting next to Ginny. She glanced at what she was reading. _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

 _Interesting_.

"I know who…"

"You _know_ who is spreading rumours about me?" Lacie shot at Ginny quickly, as if she was about to have her throat.

"Well… I saw someone laughing, saying it would be funny to start spreading something about you… I can't be too sure."

"Who?" Lacie's tone was deadly now. Hermione gave her a pointed look. Lacie took a deep breath and composed herself. "Can you tell me who? Please?"

"I don't know… their fathers are Governors…"

"My father…!"

Harry stepped around Lacie and placed himself between her and Ginny. "She doesn't have to tell you, especially if you're going to thunder towards that person and serve their heads on a silver platter for dinner."

"I am not going to have the person's head, Harry, but you out of all of us should know that it is not pleasant for lies to be spread around," Lacie said, "Or maybe you enjoy being called the Heir of Slytherin and have every Muggleborn in this school shielded from you."

"Lacie," Hermione said, "That's not fair to Harry, and I know it isn't fair for you either but there are better ways of resolving this than…"

"Why should it matter to you that people are saying nasty things?" Ron said with narrowed eyes, "If you can't take it, maybe you shouldn't be so mean in the first place."

Lacie shot Hermione a look of complete betrayal as they all sided with Harry, before taking a deep breath. "I have never been mean to Harriet Spencer, but she seems quite content in spreading around that I spent all my time kissing _boys_ instead of studying, when in fact, all people did there was to label me as the _la fille anglaise_ and so I spent all my time alone and studying hard and getting good marks by myself."

Her voice was a crescendo, getting louder and louder, and when she had finished she was breathing heavily, so much so, people in the courtyard were being to stare. She shot Ginny a nasty look, "Fine, I will just have to find out by myself."

She stormed off without further ado.

"Lacie!" Hermione stood up quickly, but her friend had disappeared within a throng of people. Hermione stepped on her tiptoes

"Typical," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from snapping something at Ron. She didn't know what was so _typical_ about Lacie's actions, but Hermione knew that whatever Lacie was thinking of, it was going to be dramatic, like last year's food fight. The bell went, disturbing her thoughts, and she could feel the dread emanating from Harry and Ron. She grinned at them.

" _Typical_ ," Hermione repeated back at Ron before adding, "Snape's bark is worse than his bite."

"It wouldn't be a first day back without a lesson without our favourite teacher, now would it?" Ron said with a wide grin, which was mirrored by Harry. Hermione sighed.

 _After all, 'Uncle Sev' has been missing me in his classes._

The three mumbled a quick goodbye to Ginny before Hermione had to physically drag the boys to the Dungeons. Of course, it was another lesson with the Slytherins that Hermione hadn't been looking forward to on her first day back, but at least it was something other than the Hospital Wing that she had grown accustomed to.

"Ready for another round of mudslinging with the Slytherins?" Harry whispered as they passed the Entrance Hall to get to the Potions classroom.

Hermione rolled her eyes and was about to answer when a rather unfriendly looking Hufflepuff and her Ravenclaw friend smirked at her and asked where her snooty drop-out friend was.

"What is it to you?" Harry asked, cutting in before Hermione said anything. They appraised Harry for a moment before walking away, probably not wishing to be the next target of the Heir of Slytherin. Hermione could swear that they muttered something else about Lacie as they left for their classes.

Hermione knew that they day had gone too smoothly for her liking, because as they walked towards the Dungeons, Hermione heard a nasty drawl, "My, my, Potter."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"What, Malfoy?"

Malfoy strutted towards them, flanked by his half-witted minions, with a nasty smirk on his face. Hermione nearly died of shock that Pansy wasn't traipsing behind Malfoy, simpering after his every word.

"Did you really think that someone like Cynthia Hutton and Elizabeth Wentworth would talk to the likes of _you?_ You, the one that is going around and harming _Muggleborns_ in his spare time?"

Hermione cringed at the way that he said Muggleborns, as if it was a great pain for him to remain polite. She would rather he had said Mudblood.

"Who cares who they are?" Ron asked.

"Of course, _you_ , with a low-ranking, law-breaking Ministry official of a father would not care, but it just so happens that they are the daughters of some influential school Governors."

Harry had to hold Ron back from throwing a punch, before Malfoy could add more insults to Ron and his father. Malfoy strutted away with undeserved glee, and Hermione dreaded the Potions lesson ahead in his company. There was also something else that bothered her, her stomach had been in knots since Malfoy's arrival, and she felt sick. She had the strongest urge to throw up all over the Dungeon floors, but knowing Snape, instead of sending her to the Hospital Wing, would punish her to clean it all up without magic during their Potions lesson, much to the merriment of the Slytherins in her Potions class.

Pushing that thought aside, she thought about what Malfoy had said. _They are the daughters of some influential school Governors._ She walked to her seat in the classroom and sat down, ignoring the looks from her Slytherin classmates. They also had a lot to say about Lacie, and what was it that Ginny had said? That someone, the daughter of a Governor, thought it would be funny to start spreading rumours about Lacie. Hermione threw her bag on her dress, her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to order her thoughts together. It didn't take much for Hermione to guess whom Ginny had been talking about, and who had started the rumours. The thought of it made Hermione feel uneasy, and she swivelled around on her seat.

"I'm going to try and find Lacie," Hermione said to Harry and Ron. She stood up and pulled her bag off her desk. "I think I know who might behind these ridiculous rumours."

"And what about Snape?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell him I'm still in the Hospital Wing, or that I felt ill or something," Hermione replied, "Pick a lie, and commit to it."

He didn't look too happy about having to lie to his second least favourite teacher, whom he was still sure could read his thoughts, but he didn't protest either. Ron didn't look at her, choosing to focus instead on fidgeting with his quill. Hermione walked past them, ignoring the curious glances of her classmates and towards the door when Professor Snape stopped her.

"Miss… Granger," there was always something unpleasant about the way words fell out of Snape's mouth, and Hermione had forgotten that during her time in the Hospital Wing. She tried not to cringe at it, as well as being caught trying to sneak out of class. "I do believe you are heading the wrong way."

"Sorry, Professor."

Before she could turn around, the Professor announced quite loudly, "You may have forgotten what it is like to attend classes, being so _ill_ for so long, but playing truant has never been acceptable behaviour at Hogwarts, five points from Gryffindor and you will take a seat _now_."

Hermione tried to ignore the ugly stares from the Gryffindor side of the classroom as she frogmarched back to her desk, and threw her bag atop of it. When Snape strode to the front of the class and scanned the classroom, taking in Hermione's sour look.

"Miss Granger, where is Miss Malfoy?"

Hermione, not wishing to give Snape any satisfaction, envisioned holding back her best friend's hair as Lacie threw up into a toilet. She answered the Professor tonelessly, "She felt ill and went to the Hospital Wing."

He regarded her for a moment, but seemed to accept her explanation and started the class without any more interruptions. Hermione had a nagging feeling that Harry was right, and that there was something strange about Snape. She would just have to try and find Lacie later.

x-x-x-x-x

"Do _not_ show Lacie that," Ron warned Harry as they hurried from Myrtle's bathroom. They were late for dinner, and they knew it. Hermione was going to positively rage at them, having ditched her in the library an hour ago to go back to the Common Room and having taken a detour around the castle, after hearing that Moaning Myrtle had flooded the corridor yet once again.

"I know you don't like her…"

"It's not that," Ron said quickly, "It's just… she would make a scene, you know…"

Harry knew. He knew that Lacie was the most… expressive of their group and would probably take the diary from them and take charge of it. The last thing that Harry wanted was to draw more unwanted attention from his classmates, and if the diary had any clues about what had happened fifty years ago, then well… he didn't want his classmates to know at all and Lacie was the telling type.

"And she'll ask us where we found it," Ron prompted breaking the silence, "she'd never let it go."

It was said in a tone that suggested that Ron was sick of Lacie's backhanded comments, which focused mainly on his family. Harry thought that she was worse this year, as if she was making up for lost time whilst she was at Beauxbatons. Harry knew that Ron would never hit a girl, but Ron was getting as close as he could to hitting Lacie sometimes.

"Yeah," Harry said, "What about Hermione?"

Ron hesitated slightly before he said, "She just got out of the Hospital Wing…"

That was the problem that was at the forefront of Harry's mind. Harry had always thought that Hermione's incident was because she was too close to finding out the truth about the Chamber of Secrets. He blamed himself for not being attentive enough to hear the disembodied voice in the wall, like he had on the night of Halloween. Added onto that, Hermione had schoolwork to catch up on and Tom Riddle's diary would only add to her stress.

"As soon as something…"

"I know, _I know_ , we _have_ to tell them."


	14. Beating With a Heart Renew'd

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven: Beating With a Heart Renew'd**

* * *

Can thy love  
Thy beauty, make amends, tho' even now,  
Close over us, the silver star, thy guide,  
Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears

 **Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'Tithonus'**

* * *

By dinnertime there was still no sign of Lacie. Hermione had checked the dormitory several times during the day whenever she could in between lessons. She wasn't surprised to see that Hurricane Lacerta had ravaged the dormitory but there was no indication of where she was. As she sat in the library trying to do her homework, her mind was wandering to where Lacie could be. There was no point in searching every inch of the castle, her friend would reappear at some point, but that did nothing to ease Hermione's nerves.

Even as Hermione sat in the Great Hall, she checked every few minutes to see if Lacie would appear for dinner. Harry and Ron were also absent, having disappeared when they were doing homework in the library. She couldn't stomach the food that was refilling in the plates in front of her. There was no point waiting for her friends to arrive to eat, she had to stomach something or she would feel it much later.

She sighed and reached for some roast vegetables and filled her plate. No sooner had she added some roast chicken, Harry and Ron appeared beside her and took a seat on the bench.

"Sorry, we were talking about Quidditch formations," Ron said as he sat down.

"Quidditch formations?" Hermione asked with a small smirk, "That was worth leaving the library for?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other and snorted simultaneously, "Always."

Hermione cut into her food and started eating whilst Harry and Ron loaded their plates with the variety of cooked meats and vegetables on the platters in front of them. Hermione surreptitiously stole glances at the doors of the Great Hall for bright blonde hair to filter through the masses towards them. She lost what little appetite she had had and put her cutlery down. She looked towards the doors yet again.

"Stop worrying," Ron said. Hermione was surprised that he wasn't shovelling food into his mouth.

"She was really upset," Hermione said, before biting her lip, "What if she's trapped in a bathroom again?"

Harry snickered at the thought, "She'd find a way to get out if she was trapped."

"But - …"

Ron shot down Hermione's protests as he ladled some soup in a bowl, ignoring his rather full plate he hadn't touched yet, "Hated or not, no one would dare to make an enemy out of a Malfoy."

"Or the supposed Heir of Slytherin," added Harry, referencing the ludicrous rumour that was going around that he was the one Petrifying Muggleborns.

Their reassurance only made Hermione fidget even more. She glanced anxiously at the large oak doors into the Great Hall before making up her mind. She pushed away an empty plate and stood up.

"I suppose that I will have to go look for her," Hermione said determinedly, "If it was you or Harry, I'd do the same."

They looked at each other, once again sharing a silent message with each other that Hermione had never been able to decode. Harry shrugged, as if to say that there was no changing Hermione's mind and Ron just started inhaling the pile of food that he had gathered as a response. Hermione rolled her eyes.

She stepped over the benches and walked towards the doors to the Great Hall. As she neared it, something darted past her and bounced from a bench onto the Ravenclaw table. After Hermione had gotten over her surprise, Hermione wasn't so surprised to see that it was Lacie who had rushed past her, dressed in a navy leotard under a sheer silver skirt. She held her wand aloft as it slowly emitted silver sparks.

 _Typical,_ Hermione thought to herself, _always a flair for the dramatics._

Silence fell in the Great Hall and as soon as everyone's gaze was upon her, she pushed herself up to stand on her toes. Albeit stable, she hesitated for a few moments before she stepped forwards into a space where there were no plates. She continued down the table and gained speed and grace as she did so. Every movement was fluid, a continuation of the one before. She was mesmerising and Hermione could see no exertion on her face as she extended every limb on her body in order to travel down the table. Her wand changed hands quickly and she left behind a trail of silver. When she reached the furthest end of the table, where there were no plates, she paused as she rested flat on her feet. Hermione could barely see Lacie inhale slightly before she kicked out a leg to propel her around as she span. Lacie's trail of silver now surrounded her, and as she span, faster and faster, the silver seemed to cocoon her. Hermione felt dizzy as she stared at her.

Lacie then burst out, leaping and jumping. This time, elegance was a side effect of her movements. She was angry and wanted to prove herself to everyone who didn't believe in her at Hogwarts. Lacie pirouetted, hopped and kicked up in some sort of vertical split, all of this whilst standing _en pointe_. Then she leapt, and Hermione feared that she may trip and fall face first into the trifle. Hermione need not have feared as she landed, _en pointe_ , and knelt slightly for her finale.

Lacie was stood, or rather, posing in front of Elizabeth Wentworth, who had paled with fear and then flushed a shade of scarlet in a matter of seconds. Eyes in the Great Hall darted from Lacie to the raised table of teachers. Professor Snape was, as usual, unreadable and Hermione was too far to see if he had the small smirk that he reserved for Lacie during times like these. Professor McGonagall's mouth was pressed into a hard line and was the only severe face in a sea of impressed ones. Professor Lockhart looked as if he was going to fall out of his chair and Hermione knew why, of course. Lockhart had been crowned a champion in a prestigious South American tango competition and not to mention his foxtrot abilities had saved a village in Southern France from a nasty invasion of chizpurfles. Lockhart knew a good dancer when he saw one, and Lacie was excellent.

At long last, there was a single applauder and Hermione was clapping animatedly before she had even looked at them. Professor Dumbledore was stood up, beaming as he clapped. His delight urged others to clap, even the stony-faced Professor McGonagall who was still not amused and Elizabeth Wentworth, who had been proven wrong in front of the entire school. Even those who were not in the Great Hall would know Lacie was in her own right, a good dancer, and that some rumours were just in fact, rumours.

"Splendid," Professor Dumbledore boomed over the polite applause, causing it to wane, "absolutely splendid. I can see why my dear Collette was so sad that you had left."

Oblivious to being the centre of attention, Lacie looked at the Headmaster and tipped her head before curtseying. Seeing that she had gotten some form of approval for her performance, she leapt down to the ground. She stumbled as she struggled to balance herself and was helped to stand by a handsome Hufflepuff boy – much to the envy of the surrounding girls.

"Typical," a voice said behind her, "always a flair for the dramatics."

Hermione jumped a little, not because it was Draco Malfoy or the words had been verbatim to her own thoughts, but because his voice made every hair on her body stand on end. She was confused by her body's reaction to him, as this had been the second time that this had occurred today. For some reason, even his _name_ sent chills through her. Hermione shrugged away the thought. It was probably because of what he had said at Christmas in the Slytherin Common Room.

"Malfoy."

"Granger, I see that you are well."

"I'm surprised that you were concerned at all, it's very out of character for you."

There was a small chuckle, "Yes, well, Mother insists that you are a family friend, so I _do_ try to appease her."

The word 'friend' pierced through her body as if it was an icicle. Hermione resisted the reflex to cringe at his presence and she didn't know why she was still there talking to him. After all, their conversation was clipped, short and incredibly uncomfortable, that much had remained unchanged since his sister returned. His presence was uncomfortable.

"I see," Hermione said after a while, to which Malfoy had no witty remark or any further comments to add.

Fortunately for Hermione, Lacie had spotted her and had grabbed her away, without even acknowledging her brother. It wasn't long before Lacie was moaning about her calves and toes but noted that it had been worth pushing herself to her limit, as long as the rumours about how she had been an Intermediate at Beauxbatons would dispel. Lacie had spent her afternoon researching the Governors rather than being in a classroom, and stumbled across a supposedly secret group that existed at Hogwarts were the offspring of influential Ministers and Governors and found the names of those responsible for starting the rumours about her. It was only a matter of time before she had spent the rest of the day rehearsing her steps and making sure everything was going to be a success.

Hermione managed a smile as Lacie chattered of her success. McGonagall hadn't chased her down for a good telling off – yet – which only added to her ecstasy. Hermione's thoughts seemed to be far away from her conversation with Lacie. Her reactions to Malfoy were troubling, and how just _thinking_ about him made her stomach uneasy.

 _Maybe it's the thought of actually thinking about Malfoy that is making you fret, stop overthinking things, Hermione._

"Penny?" Lacie asked suddenly.

"Hm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

 _Your brother._ "Nothing."

"I can still tell when you're lying you know."

Hermione contemplated about lying again but she knew that if Lacie were the slightest bit suspicious, she would keep badgering her about what she was really thinking about.

Hermione sighed, "Your brother."

Lacie raised an eyebrow, "What about Draco?"

"Well… there's something about him that makes me feel odd."

Lacie stopped and quickly grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. She shook her violently as she asked with utmost urgency, "Do you fancy Draco?"

"No! no, no, no, no… no!" Hermione said, repetitively and incredulously. Lacie stared at her, as she scrutinised her response. After a moment, she dropped her hands. Hermione straightened her robes out.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! He makes me feel as if there's worms crawling under my skin or scared, like he's about to kill me."

There was a pause before Lacie said, "He is not the Heir, Hermione."

"Well, that's not the only way to almost die at the moment." The words felt sour in her mouth. Lacie gave her a weak glare.

"You are not suggesting that _Draco_ poisoned you, are you?"

The accusation felt louder than it was and tension engulfed them in the quiet corridor. The truth was, Hermione had her suspicions, and at the top of them was Malfoy. It was hardly surprised considering how many times he voiced his contempt for her dirty blood. However, no matter how many times Hermione thought it logically through, Malfoy didn't have the capacity to randomly poison her with Doxy venom, and even if it had been his wishes, he wouldn't have done the dirty work himself – releasing himself from the actual crime itself. After all, that was the Malfoy way… traditionally.

"No… I don't know," Hermione said without much conviction but she looked at the expression on her best friend's face. She took a deep breath. "No, of course not."

Lacie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Good, because I would not like to think that my brother tried to kill my best friend."

Hermione wouldn't like to think that either, but before she could say anything else to assure her friend. Professor McGonagall was making a beeline towards Lacie, unmistakeable irritation marked on her face. Hermione raised an eyebrow as she turned to Lacie, who in turn, sighed and awaited her punishment.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie tried to ignore the insufferable snickers of the Slytherins as she scrubbed the Dungeon floors without magic. Beside her, Hermione seemed to have taken to the task like a duck to water. She seemed better at ignoring the Slytherins than she was. Of course she was, her best friend had remarkably thicker skin than Lacie, and the fact that Lacie called Hermione her best friend, only complimented her taste in people.

"You would think that after providing, what I deem to be first class entertainment, they would not give me detention," Lacie sighed, dipping her brush into the bucket of cleaning water.

"You skipped your afternoon classes," Hermione said, "Did you really expect to be exempt from punishment?"

Lacie rolled her eyes, "Well, I do appreciate you lying about where I was, at least I have a companion for detention for the time being."

Her friend smiled as she poured water from her bucket and scrubbed the floor. She was better suited to this type of menial work, and was better at working without magic much more than Lacie was. Lacie wondered what other magic-less tasks that Hermione was able to do that Lacie would always struggle with.

"Oh, _Lacerta_ ," the voice echoed through the corridor and rebounded off the walls, making it seem like the person was right next to Lacie, even though Lacie could see them appearing at the end of the Dungeon corridor. Pansy Parkinson attempted to glide towards her in a swish of robes, but Lacie could hear her heavy footsteps echo as her voice had. Draco and Theo flanked her, and they were clearly returning from dinner. "Someone of your stature should not have to do this type of servant's work."

Lacie cringed at Pansy's wording, _someone of your stature_ ; as if her family's social standing was enough for her to have a different detention. Her brother deigned to look at her, but when he did he regarded her with the same kind of contempt that Lacie had seen too many times on her father. Lacie ignored him. She did not know what feathers of Draco's she had ruffled.

"Professor Snape gave us the detention, and you know how he adores having his Dungeon floors immaculate," Lacie replied with a smile turning her attention back to Pansy.

The other girl grabbed at her hands and tutted at the dirt that had gathered on them. "When I had to do this for my rather undeserved detention, very much like yourself, Mother sent me some supplies to get my hands back into a ladylike condition. I can share it with you, if you like."

Lacie glanced back at Hermione, who had taken to cleaning the tiles with extra vigour.

"I guess some people are just more at home without magic than we are," Pansy snickered and Lacie pulled her hands out of Pansy's grasp. Hermione was either very good at pretending that she could not hear or she had thicker skin than Lacie had imagined.

"Hermione could teach us a thing or two about not being so reliant on our magic," Lacie said, "Ballet dancing does not require an ounce of magic, instead it requires skill and determination. Magic should not define who we are as a person."

Pansy faltered before her, her mouth falling agape for a moment, her composure disappeared for a moment but she regained it quickly and an ugly sneer appeared on her face. "I will ignore this, as we are to be family soon, but make no mistake Lacerta, the sooner you see the difference between your position in this world and _theirs_ , the better your world will be."

Pansy walked away, prompting her brother to do the same without saying so much a single word to Lacie. Lacie watched his wordless departure, feeling the sting of rejection momentarily. Lacie wondered when his cold shoulder would dissipate, and a sad part of her knew that, so long as she remained a Gryffindor, there was little hope for the relationship that existed in their childhood. Lacie just wished she knew what had caused this sudden rift, and she wished she knew what she could to make it better.

"You are not a Malfoy _yet_ ," Lacie said, not turning to face Pansy, "And if you are to become one, which I severely doubt, please note that Hermione Granger is a respected friend of the Malfoy family and you _will_ have to treat her as such."

Lacie's last wish was to be able to see Pansy's face as Lacie's words echoed through the Dungeon corridor. She wondered if her mouth would have fallen open, or if Draco would have rolled his eyes at her words. Pansy reacted just how Lacie thought she would, immaturely and like a brat as she kicked over the cleaning bucket that Hermione was using.

" _Oops_ ," Pansy hissed as the suds spread across the floor and soaked Hermione's robes and shoes. Lacie noted bitterly that the girl most likely did it because she knew that Hermione or Lacie could not perform any magic to remedy it. Pansy walked away without apology, half-dragging Draco, her angry footsteps rebounding off the stone walls.

Theo had remained for a moment, and picked up the fallen bucket. He looked at her, his cerulean eyes focusing on her for a moment before looking elsewhere, anywhere but at her. "You should not let Pansy under your skin."

"Who says…?"

"Also, please excuse Draco. He… well, things are not easy for him and… just know that he loves you, and that you have friends in Slytherin House."

Lacie raised an eyebrow, as if to ask him where these friends were. Theo smiled before saying, "You know Pansy means well, in her own childish way."

"And you?"

"Lacie, I am slightly offended that you even have to ask, especially after growing up together."

Theo did not offer anything else as he turned and walked towards his Common Room. A small smile played on the edges of Lacie's lips as she fell to her knees as she attempted to dry some of the thoroughly wet floor.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, she was pushing the excess soapy water to the dirtier parts of the Dungeon floor and scrubbing there.

"I was not going to let anyone, let alone Pansy Parkinson, insult you."

Her friend did not reply and continued to clean the floors. They remained in silence for a few moments before Professor Snape appeared in front of them. The Professor was unimpressed by the flood that was present in the corridor, and he made his disdain known.

"Miss Malfoy and Miss Granger, as intelligent as you both are, I am surprised that the simple task of cleaning floors has confounded you."

Lacie groaned, but did not elaborate. She did not want more trouble from Pansy today.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco paced in his dormitory, repetitively walking the distance from his bed to the one across – Nott's – and almost boring holes in the stone floor of his communal room. He was mulling over the conversation between Pansy and his sister. He had deliberately avoided it, not wishing to take a side. He did not want to side with his sister, the same sister who had ignored him after her theatrical display of Malfoy arrogance across the Ravenclaw dinner tables. He knew that it was petty to hold grudges against Lacie, but… he shuddered.

There was something so easy and natural about how he had sauntered past her, with her robes in disarray, her hair tied up haphazardly with her brash red and gold tie and top button of her shirt undone. She had looked like any other typical Gryffindor that walking past her as if she were invisible was remarkably easy. He had not felt uneasy about ignoring her, and now he felt guilty for the lack of emotion. Draco shrugged the guilt off, he should not feel such emotions, _this is a sign of weakness._

Envy had pooled in the crevices of his stomach when he saw the way his sister could converse so easily with Granger and then with Pansy. She was the perfect social butterfly that her mother had crafted her to be, only breaking when Pansy challenged her Gryffindor loyalty. Even Father could not fault that the girl with her hair in the Gryffindor tie was his own, her words of admonishment was so practiced and careful as if she was channelling Father.

 _How do I make things better? Do I even want to make things better? Is considering Lacie family now a lost cause?_

The dormitory door opened and Theo appeared, with an odd expression on his face. Draco barely registered his presence and carried on pacing.

"Are you trying to flood the place?"

Draco paused and turned to look at his friend.

"I am thinking."

"Makes a change."

Draco reached for a trinket sitting atop his trunk and threw it at Theo. Theo caught it deftly and glowered at him.

"Nice catch, maybe you should try out for the Quidditch Team next year," Draco said acidly.

"You know that I do not partake in organised sports. I spectate rather than participate," Theo replied in equally an acidic tone.

"Explains why you watch Pansy rather than do what you want to do, and chase her."

It was Theo's turn to throw the trinket at Draco. Draco caught it in one hand before tossing it onto his bed.

Theo was glaring at him, "Are you sure you tried out for the right position? You seem to suit a Chaser rather than a Seeker, that explains why Potter outflies you on an inferior broom."

The hairs on Draco's arm and neck raised and he forced himself not throw Theo against the wall and punch him relentlessly. The boy knew better than to bring up Potter and Quidditch in the same sentence. Theo, being Theo, knew that Draco was most likely trying to restrain himself from resorting to violence. Draco's laboured breaths were also another giveaway, but Draco focused his mind elsewhere.

"To what do I owe this slanging match?"

"Boredom."

Draco let out a single 'ha', and continued his pacing of the room. It was a force of habit when he was trying to solve a problem, it did not always work but failure had never deterred him from this habit.

"Fine, I came to tell you that you should be less of a brat towards your sister. You can avoid Granger like she is dragonpox, but not Lacie, she is still family."

Draco thought about what Theo had said for a moment, knowing better than to point out that to avoid Granger was to also avoid his sister. As much as Draco had always heeded Theo's advice, he knew that in this respect that it was better to push his sister aside for the time being, until he had further instruction from his father. He brushed off the advice and replied sardonically, "Since when did you play the mediator and attend to family affairs, Theodore?"

Theo had walked to where Draco was pacing and stopped him, placing his hands on Draco's shoulders. Draco looked at him, and noted seriousness in his blue eyes. "Since you started seeing me as your sort-of-but-not-quite brother. Since Lacie saw me as that too."

Draco chuckled humourlessly. "Are you sure you would want to be part of the Malfoy family? We are dysfunctional enough already."

"Better your family than Blaise's, how long do you think this Fawley man will last?" Theo asked.

Draco did not answer his question, instead staring wistfully at the deep green curtains that hung down every four-poster bed in the dormitory. He took a deep breath before saying, "I suppose we are all dysfunctional here."

Theo said it under his breath so quietly that Draco was not sure that he had heard it, but he was sure that his 'brother' had said, "Hear, hear."

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _Apologies that this is a day late xo_

 _Draco/Theo moments legit give me life._

 _CSxo._


	15. Many a Little Art, Part I

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve: Many a Little Art, Part I**

* * *

 _How thought you that this thing could captivate?  
What are those graces that could make her dear,  
Who is not worth the notice of a sneer,  
To rouse the vapid devil of her hate?_

From _How Thought You That This Thing Could Capitvate?_ by Alfred Lord Tennyson

* * *

Hermione was definitely not the card giving type, and never had she been asked to be someone's Valentine. At first, when she saw Lauren receive a card (although, it did seem dreadfully young to give someone a Valentine) she had a slight jab of envy. Of course, her envy seemed absurd after her first year at Hogwarts, as she realised that it was a more common practice for those much older than her. She would get a Valentine in the future. At least she hoped.

Hermione did surprise herself, however, by sending a Valentine. By sheer chance, Hermione did wonder if she would receive one as what went around, came around but rapidly replaced that thought with homework that was due next week. Her hopes were not particularly high on Valentine's Day and she was relatively nonplussed about the day as she ate her breakfast, sometimes stealing a cursory glance at the ostentatiously decorated Hall.

 _I have never seen so much… pink, and I share a dormitory with some of the girliest girls in my year._

The only other emotion aside from wonder that Hermione felt was embarrassment. She wasn't so much embarrassed because she had sent her first Valentine's card to Professor Lockhart (which, it had seemed was appreciated although not an idea unique to only Hermione) it was the fact that Lacie, Ron and Harry now knew that she had. Thankfully there was an unspoken rule between the four; no one bar Lacie was allowed to voice their disapproval at anything Hermione said, so she didn't have to hear their comments. Out loud.

Where Hermione had lacked in Valentines, Lacie gained. It seemed after her "performance" a week ago, her popularity soared. First-and-second years seemed to idolise her bravery to do something like that and that enthusiasm for her seemed to wane for those in their fourth years and above. The group that surrounded Wentworth and Hutton kept their distance, not that Lacie cared.

"Valentine for Lacie Malfoy," a gruff voice interrupted. Ron smirked as he nudged Harry on the other side of the table. Hermione could see why, the poor dwarf was dressed, top to toe, in pink with a pair of white wings. Even though Professor Lockhart had organised the entire affair, Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"This is she," Lacie said, rolling her eyes. She was terrible at concealing her nonchalance, a small part of her was giddy with elation and Hermione knew it.

" _Gryffindor is red; Ravenclaw is blue; your ballet is flawless, may I dance with you?"_ the dwarf recited with a bored tone, "From Joshua Baxter, would you like to reply?"

"No, thank you."

The dwarf seemed slightly relieved for a moment before reverting back to irritation as someone called to him to deliver a Valentine.

"You could have at least said thank you," Lavender Brown hissed down the table at Lacie. It was hardly a surprise to realise that other people sitting around them had been listening to the Valentine considering it was the first dwarf to venture anywhere near them.

"I did," Lacie said, pursing her lips, as again she tried not to look too smug, but again, it wasn't working.

"You know what I mean!"

Lacie raised an eyebrow, "Malfoys do not reply to requests made in such an informal manner and regardless, that was the _cheesiest_ rhyme ever, which for a Ravenclaw is not acceptable. This Baxter boy could have been slightly more inventive"

Lavender didn't seem to care much for what Malfoys did or didn't do as she replied to Lacie, "You are cold. Josh Baxter is… so cute!"

"You jealous there, Lav?" Seamus snickered.

Lavender snorted, "Of _her?_ Of course not! I don't see what all you boys see in her."

"It's her hair and her eyes and her brain and her dancing…" Dean listed off jokingly to Lavender as she got redder and redder.

"Shut up, Dean!" She stood up and stepped out of the table and stomped away, leaving Parvati and Cheryl to chase after her.

"Thanks Dean," Lacie sighed, "Do you realise that her bed is next to mine?"

Dean's Cheshire cat smile was more of indicative that he knew that fact. _Troublemaker._

"She'll forget it by Herbology, don't worry," Hermione said, "Which reminds me, we should be going to Charms now."

"If there is a screaming Mandrake waiting in my bed for me Dean, I swear I will haunt you forever," Lacie threatened jokingly as she stood up to leave.

Dean winked, "Don't make promises you won't keep, Malfoy."

It was a comment that Hermione noticed had Lacie blushing all morning.

x-x-x-x-x

 _I'll kill that Joshua Baxter and Liam Welsh… and Angus Horndyke. All of them. How dare they…_ Draco couldn't think about it any longer. The anger seemed to swell greater and greater inside of him.

"Hello, may I send a Valentine to Lacerta Malfoy?"

Draco reacted before he even aware of who had said it. He had Theo pinned to the wall by his robes as red burned through him. Theo may be his best friend, but if he had _any_ intention to be a brother-in-law to him…

"That got you out of your daydream," Theo grinned. Draco loosened his grip.

 _You know better, Theo, than to play with my emotions concerning my sister_. Draco did not want to let Theo go so quickly. A lesson had to be taught, after all.

"If you dare, so much as, think about my sister in _that_ way, _Theodore.._."

"Fine, fine… _Draconis_. You know that Lacie is like a sister to me, so calm down for Merlin's sake."

Draco glared at Theo for a moment before he let him go. Just like Theo hated being called Theodore (for reasons that were so long-winded that Draco would have to sit in some sort of mother's meeting to go through them all), Draco hated being called Draconis. Draconis seemed far more uppity than he liked and he hated for people to think that 'Draco' was short for it, which it was most definitely not.

 _Where dear Theodore even got it to upset me, I will never know._

"I simply cannot see why you are so annoyed over it all," Pansy said in her whiniest voice, "It is only common fun."

"Then I shall send a dwarf for you," Draco snapped, "Instead of _court_ you, would that satisfy you?"

Pansy looked taken aback, much to Draco's pleasure. Although irritating, he did enjoy putting Pansy in her place, which was easy given that they were almost betrothed. That was a thought he dreaded. A lifetime of union with his supposed childhood sweetheart in order to merge family fortunes and secure another generation of blood purity. It was a task that befell him, now that Lacie had been compromised and would most likely throw herself at any Mudblood that gave her attention.

He redirected his thoughts from it, as it was something that was for an older Draco Malfoy to mull over. Instead, he watched as thoughts pushed around in Pansy's head and it took her a while to grasp the right one. Draco knew from the moment he asked her that question she would have to backtrack and admit she was wrong to call today 'common fun', after all, it was every Pureblood girls' dream to be courted formally by someone.

 _Commoner's fun, more like, not a ritual that_ our _lot took part in_.

"No, Draco…" she said quietly as she concealed her scarlet face. "Of course I would want you to court me instead."

 _Good answer, Pansy._ The moment was bittersweet as Draco could almost feel Theo's gaze on him. Draco had hoped that his friend would have gotten over his emotions over Christmas, considering how close the Malfoys and Parkinsons had gotten recently, but the day had renewed some sort of… romantic faith in him. Although he did not feel anything remotely for Pansy, he could not imagine that he would ever be in Theo's position, pining over some girl he could not really see a future with and having to settle for second-best.

"Blood traitor at nine o'clock," Blaise whispered snidely into Draco's ear.

Despite being startled by Blaise's sudden appearance, Draco tried to feign nonchalance as he looked where Blaise had told him. He rolled his eyes. It was… Greta? Glinda? Jenny? Draco did not know her name, but he knew it was a Weasley. He was not too surprised to see one, as the Weasleys seemed to infest Hogwarts like a nasty rash. _Eurgh._

 _I hope that Blaise is not trying to use me to make himself feel better, especially after seeing the engagement announcement in_ The Daily Prophet _a few days ago._

"So? I have no business -…"

"You there! Weasley!" Pansy shouted over Draco at the hurrying girl. "Come here for a moment."

Draco dreaded what was up Pansy's sleeve. She probably had something rather silly planned in order to earn herself some imaginary reprieve.

Weasley stopped in her tracks and turned to face Pansy, and appraised her for a moment before saying, "What, Parkinson?" A thin eyebrow was raised as she stared at Pansy. Draco looked at Theo for a moment and saw that he, too, was stifling a snicker.

"I heard you got a singing dwarf… from a _troll_." Millicent and Daphne cackled mechanically beside her.

 _So childish, is this who my Father wants me to marry one day? The immaturity of her insult was…_ insulting.

"At least I got a singing dwarf, when are you getting yours from Malfoy?"

Draco snorted despite himself. To Weasley's credit, she was standing her ground unlike any other first year would have. Pansy had caught his snort and gave him an indignant look. It was Pansy's problem, she should not have called Weasley over and let herself be insulted in the first place. However, if Draco did not speak up, he would hear Pansy's whining rants for the rest of the week.

"Weasley, I do not send singing dwarves, but feel free to send one to me," Draco said lazily, and strolled up to her and whispered in her ear, "Just a warning, though, _I really do not like you like that so do not expect one back_."

"You're disgusting, I wouldn't waste my breath on someone like you," the girl snorted back at him as she took a step back. Draco was unabashed, being shot down by a blood traitor was similar to the feeling one got when they received House points from a Transfiguration teacher through gritted teeth for an answer well responded. If the girl had felt any sort of emotion towards him, then he would be worried.

"Someone like me… I am hurt by that comment," Draco said mockingly, "I apologise for not being noble and loyal and chivalrous like… _Potter_."

Draco knew he had hit a nerve when her pale complexion flushed rapidly red. If Draco was ever to be good at one thing in this world, it was definitely things that made people uncomfortable, or sad, and exactly how to prey on those emotions. She did not answer him, but her blush was speaking volumes.

" _Really_ , Harry Potter?" Draco asked, "Your brother's… best friend, Harry Potter?"

"Shut up…" was all she growled in a tone so low that Draco was the only person that probably heard her.

"You realise that he will only ever see you as his best friend's sister? That is sad because… of course, he will never look twice at you…"

"Shut up…"

"Especially with someone like my sister around, and considering how tight-knit that group is, of course, Lacie could fall for someone like Weasley, but that would never work because, let's think about it, my sister is a bit out of your brother's league and that leaves Potter…"

"To what? Marry and fall in love with?" The girl asked sceptically, "Of course _you_ would know about marriage, didn't your parents arrange yours with Parkinson?"

"And you think that my parents could not orchestrate a marriage between a marriage between a Malfoy and the Wonder-Boy-Who-Lived?" Draco snapped at her, _how dare she bring the betrothal affair with Pansy into this… I have to win this fight…just to feel better that this news was spreading against my absolute wishes,_ "You should be realistic, if someone like _you_ does not stake a claim in Potter rather quickly, his heart is going to be sold to the highest bidder."

"Harry would _never…_ "

"Sell out? You do not think that one day someone like him is not going to go for Minister for Magic? It would make a great political campaign, the boy who rid the Wizarding World of its biggest threat promising to better the lives of the Wizarding community… and on his arm, it could be you, if you play your cards right."

To Draco's delight, she did not answer.

"Stake your claim, Weasley, before someone like my sister does."

The words twisted in his stomach with disgust. Nevertheless, it worked. The girl paled in front of him and guilt shot through him, briefly. However, as he had already taken it a step too far, he finished the job with a sly grin. He fished in his pocket and found a Sickle. He tossed it at her, which she frantically caught.

"Go on, remember to tell your grandchildren that _I_ helped."

With that, Draco sauntered off, summoning his friends as he passed them, and he could feel some of them fall into place around him. He felt slightly brilliant. All of his troubles of the day, boys sending cheap Valentine's to his sister and Pansy whining in his ear as she hoped for a Valentine, seemed to fade away. As he went to his next lesson, he wondered if he would be able to witness Potter's embarrassment.

It seemed that he would.

By chance, he crossed paths with Potter and Weasley as he headed towards Charms an hour later and to his delight, a dwarf was in the final strains of a badly sung tune. Potter was red-faced as he tried to gather his scattered books, which were drenched in black ink. Draco snickered. This was too amusing. He walked straight up to them, and he accidentally stood on a small, leather book. He picked it up, by the corner, as if it was covered in dung instead of ink.

"Potter, what is _this_?" Draco asked, pulling a disgusted face. He moved his fingers slightly so that he could inspect the pages as the book fell open. _A diary. How trivial._ "I did not think that you were the diary type Potter, let me guess, do you write down how sad and lonely it is to be Dumbledore's special boy?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter finally said as he stood up. Instead of looking ashamed, he looked rather angry. _How inappropriate of him._ He tried to swipe the diary from Draco's fingers, but Draco moved quicker, not caring if he got ink on his hands anymore.

"Did I hurt your feelings?" Draco said mockingly, sticking out his lower lip for added effect. "Do you want your diary back so you can chronicle in great detail how mean I was to you?" Potter glared at him, holding his wand tightly in his hand.

Draco looked at the diary again, flicking the pages, in vain hope to see what embellished turmoil Potter had documented down but with the second glance, the diary itself looked familiar. It was like a distant memory, but he was sure to have made it up. He did, after all, have an active imagination. The pages were empty, to Draco's dismay. He would have loved to peek at the _Dear Diary_ 's that Potter scrawled in his pathetic diary.

However, it did bother him slightly, that Potter, of all people, had something that was familiar to him.

"Where did you…?"

The diary was suddenly snatched from his hand and Draco looked up at the perpetrator. His sister, held the ink-stained book in her hands as she stared at Draco. Her face had gone pale, and she looked like she was going to be sick.

"Lacie?"

"Do not touch things that are not yours," his sister recited slowly and almost… as if from memory, like it had been drilled into her. He thought he saw her gulp before she turned away and walked briskly away, not before she pocketed the diary to the chagrin of Potter.

 _Odd_ , he thought to himself, _maybe she recognised it from somewhere too._

And for the rest of the day, Draco could not forget his sister's reaction to the diary.

x-x-x-x-x

" _I am bored."_

 _Draco ignored his sister, she was so annoying, and today because she did not have a ballet lesson, and she was even more so. The silence seemed more uncomfortable as the violent rain hit the thin glass of his room noisily._

" _You should play with me!"_

 _Again, he ignored her, preferring to watch his model broomsticks zoom around in the air above him._

" _CoCo, come play with me!"_

 _This time it was more insistent. Draco looked at her lazily and pulled a face._

" _I do not want to play."_

 _Lacie jutted out her bottom lip and sniffed. "Please? We can ask Sophie to play with us."_

 _At the mention of their au pair, Draco seemed to light up. He stood up and his broomsticks landed carefully onto the ground. He nodded and bounded off to the East Wing and Lacie followed him to their mother's sitting room._

 _Draco was the first one into the room, but Lacie was determined not to be outdone by her brother… especially in front of Sophie._

" _Sophie! Sophie! Will you -…" They chanted simultaneously as they arrived into the room. They were out of breath from running across the Manor._

" _En_ _français_ _," their mother reminded them with a smile. Sophie was sitting beside her, looking lovely as usual. Her dark hair was held up with intricate plaits and pins and it contrasted against her pale skin. She was_ beautiful _. Her dark lashes fluttered over her chocolate coloured eyes. Her cheeks were slightly pink, as if she had just pinched them the moment before they arrived. Draco knew that Lacie yearned to be as pretty as Sophie was when she grew up, as graceful as she was, she was poised in her chair, and she was elegant in how she held herself, and the cards she was holding in a game with their mother. Draco adored her._

" _Er…" Draco looked at Lacie for guidance. Lacie was not too sure either, despite being the_ better _one at French._

" _Pouvez-vous jouer_ _…?" Lacie started but Draco interrupted out of excitement, "Avec nous?"_

 _Sophie looked over at their mother, who gave an approving nod before asking, "_ _Qu'est ce que vous voulez jouer, mes chéris_ _?"_

 _Draco and Lacie looked at each other and beamed at each other. They knew exactly what they wanted to play._

" _Cache-cache," they said in unison._


	16. Many a Little Art, Part II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen: Many a Little Art, Part II**

* * *

 _An eye that glances on her neighbor's dress;_  
 _A foot too often shown for my regard;_  
 _An angel's form - a waiting-woman's heart;_  
 _A perfect-featured face, expressionless._

Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'How Thought You That This Thing Could Captivate'.

* * *

Lacie was sure that she had seen it before; she had held it in her hand before. The small, dark, leather bound book. She remembered it! In the small recesses of her mind it was coming back. They were so young. She spent the day looking at it, through it, over it. It _was_ the same one. It belonged to the same person… _that person_. The pages were still empty and it had the faint smell of… the forbidden place. She had always thought she had imagined that day, and Sophie, the au pair that they never saw or mentioned again… but here it was in front of her, the single reminder of what had happened and where it belonged.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were doing their homework whereas Lacie's stomach was in knots meaning she could not concentrate, despite the piles of additional homework she had. Every minute she would canvass the Common Room to see if was going to empty soon. People left slowly. It was starting to annoy her that people were taking so long. Luckily, her friends could sense her increasing irritation and didn't provoke her. Especially Ronald.

"Where did you find it?" Lacie asked as soon as the Common Room was empty except for them. Lacie knew that Harry was expecting this all day, since she had taken the diary from Draco and refused to give it back. That was why he had not rushed off to bed yet. Likewise, Harry was probably curious as to why Lacie was so anxious about the diary.

"What has it got to do with you?" Ron retaliated, "It's Harry's."

"It is not."

"How do you know that it's not?" Ron challenged.

" _Un_ _… deux… trois_ _…" Sophie counted slowly as Draco and Lacie ran from the room._

 _They kept looking at each other to convey where they wanted to hide. Obviously not outside, it was far too gloomy and they were too scared to go into the maze without the comfort of a parent, especially since it made them a bit ill. The West Wing would be too obvious and it would be the first place that Sophie would look. They ran and ran until they were inside the drawing room, a luxurious room with dark furniture. Lacie ran towards the chaise longue as underneath it was easily the best hiding spot in the room. Draco had the same idea. The two fought over the spot until Lacie pushed Draco into the bookshelf, and claimed her spot._

" _Lacie?" Lacie heard her brothers' excitement in his tone. From his tone she knew that it was not a trap to take her hiding spot. She crawled from underneath the chaise and saw that the bookshelf she had pushed Draco into had moved slightly forwards._ It was a door! _She approached it with the same wonder that Draco had. Their rather unusual grandmother had told them, before she passed away that Malfoy Manor had many hidden trapdoors but the twins had yet to find their first one. Until now that was._

 _It was unspoken rule that since Draco found it, he would be the first one to enter what seemed to be a dark staircase downwards. Lacie followed him, holding tight onto his hand. Equally frightened, his fingernails dug into his palms as much as hers did his. The air seemed heavy, cold and damp. Lacie did not like it. They reached the bottom of the stairs and it was dark._

" _Aah!"_

 _Lacie looked in the direction that Draco had called from. She couldn't quite see and needed to use the light from the drawing room above. She saw a glass cylinder over something. She walked towards it and she felt Draco tense as she passed him. She peered in the cylinder and saw some dark fangs, huge fangs. It terrified her, but she did not react to it like Draco had before. She was safe with him._

" _We need light," Draco said, his voice was quivering. "I shalll get a candle."_

 _Lacie heard the padding of feet as Draco ran up the stairs to fetch the aforementioned candle, and he was gone before she could protest. Lacie looked at her dark surroundings. Her stomach turned._

" _CoCo?" Lacie called out. This secret hideaway gave her the shivers. She did not like it. She did not like it at all. There was no reply from above. She started to panic. She was scared. "CoCo!"_

" _CeCe?"_

 _Lacie let out a sigh of relief. She saw a bobbing yellow like as Draco struggled to hold up a candlestick. With the better light, Lacie looked around. They were in some sort of storeroom, or else somewhere where all odd objects were put. Lacie saw that the glass cylinder housed an intimidating dragon skull. It was striking and Lacie could not stop looking at it; Draco could not stop looking at it._

It is not so scary in the candlelight.

 _In her curiosity, she wandered around the chamber, her delicate fingers brushed against surfaces of boxes with odd symbols over them. They explored other glass cylinders with odd skeletons in them. She tilted her head to the side to read the titles of books, titles that were fading with age. Some mumbled, but Lacie was sure that was the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. There was a single book on a shelf that had no title, and for some reason Lacie was drawn to it. She pulled it off. It was so simple, so boring, she did not know why she wanted to read it. She looked at the cover._ T. M. Riddle _._

Who was T. M. Riddle?

 _She opened the book and looked at the first page. Nothing. There was nothing on the next page either. There was nothing in the diary but the printed dates. It was…_

" _WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING DOWN HERE?"_

"Lacie?"

Lacie looked up at Harry who was staring at her. There was a sort of fierceness in his eyes that did not appear very often, but seemed to frighten her nonetheless.

"What?"

Harry looked over at Ron for a moment before asking, "We found it in a girl's bathroom, is it yours?"

"No, it is not." _It was not a lie._

"That's a lie," Hermione said tonelessly. Lacie looked at her, and her expression was cold. Lacie inhaled sharply. She did not expect Hermione to join in, since she had been so engrossed in her homework.

"If it was mine, I would not ask Harry where he found it, because I would already know where he found it…" Lacie snapped, "Which lends to the question, why were you both in a girl's bathroom?"

Ron shoved Harry in indignation, and glowered at him, nevertheless, he turned to Lacie and said, "It doesn't matter where we found it, you still haven't told us why you care so much about a diary with nothing in it."

"Even if it isn't yours," Harry added, "You know of it."

"What makes you think that?"

"I saw the way that Malfoy looked at it, and I saw your reaction," Harry said coolly, "And you've had to check that it was still in your pocket at least ten times today."

x-x-x-x-x

" _We-we…" Draco mumbled, the candlestick balancing precociously in his hands as he shook with fear._

" _Who let you down here?" Lucius Malfoy spat with venom._

" _We found it, Father," Lacie said, trying not to sound as scared as she was. Father was angry. Father was scary when he was angry._ What if he smacked us for being naughty? _Lacie watched as her father's gaze wandered down to the book in her hands. He snatched it from her and shouted,_

" _DO NOT TOUCH THINGS THAT ARE NOT YOURS, EVER. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"_

 _Lacie whimpered as she nodded. Things rattled around them in their father's rage. Draco was silently crying._

" _GET OUT!"_

 _The twins scarpered up the stairs, Draco blew out the candle as he went, which left a trail of light smoke. They wanted to run to the West Wing to their rooms, to run away from Father's anger. However, he was following them and raring for a second round of bollocking. If only they could get out before…_

 _It seemed that Father knew what they were thinking, and the drawing room doors shut loudly. The bookcase door that led to the secret chamber slammed with such force that some books and ornaments toppled onto the floor. Some shattered completely but their Father did not care. Other ornaments on other shelves began to shake._

" _YOU TWO -…"_

 _The door opened behind them._

" _Whatever is the matter…?" their mother asked as she entered the room with a grief-stricken looking Sophie._

 _Their father composed himself before saying, as his voice shook, "Narcissa, this is none of your…"_

" _Ah… Meester Malfoy… I was just playing with zem…"_

 _The look that was in her father's eyes was a look that imprinted onto Lacie…_

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie stood up, shaking, "Look, I _may_ have seen it before."

"What do you mean… _may have_ …?" Harry asked tentatively.

Lacie's answer was a brief, rushed summary of an incident that had occurred years ago during a game of hide and seek with her au pair.

"I am not even sure that it was the same diary, it was dark… but… I-I just feel like it is the same diary, it was a long time ago," Lacie said hurriedly as she sat back down. It was a lie, as she was almost certain it was the same one. She stared at the diary to avoid her lie being detected again.

"What is a diary from a Malfoy cellar doing in Hogwarts?" Hermione asked aloud.

"No, it…"

"It's fifty years old too," Ron added, "It's a bit too convenient that this diary appears and it fits the same era that the Chamber of Secrets was last opened."

Lacie watched as Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as if she was putting two and two together, and Lacie could almost hear the whirring of Hermione's brain working at processing all the information from the year. Lacie held a hand up at her friend. "Stop."

"But…"

"I said-…"

"Think about it, Lacie. Malfoy diary, Malfoy elf warning Harry to stay away, your father sending you away… Ron's right, it's too convenient."

"What are you saying?" Lacie asked shrewdly. "That this diary has the answers to who is opening the Chamber of Secrets? It is completely blank and empty."

"I am saying, we should revisit the idea that Draco may be the Heir of Slytherin. Again."

Lacie did not want to hear what she was saying to her, she just wanted to storm out and refuse to talk to them. _How could they accuse the people that I love, over and over again? Snape was last year's target and her brother was the target of this school year…_ She glared at Hermione, "No, the Heir of Slytherin… Draco does not even _know_ how to speakParseltongue, the only person that knows Parseltongue in this school is Harry!"

Lacie knew that Harry didn't appreciate that she had said it, but Lacie didn't care. It was true. If there were going to be someone in the school that was remotely likely to be this ridiculous Heir, it would be the one person that had Salazar's gift.

"So, you think it's me?" Harry asked.

"No, I… I just do not think that it is my brother, and I definitely do not think that it is you," Lacie said slowly, she felt deflated… she did not want to justify herself anymore. She just did not want to believe that her brother was the reason for… _he is not. He could not…because that would make me the Heir of Slytherin too…_ It was a selfish train of thought, but she did not want to be the Heir of Slytherin any more than Harry did.

She pulled the diary out of her pocket and threw it on the table. Everyone stared at it.

"Does anyone remember what Firenze said?" Hermione asked aloud. Lacie looked at her for a moment, completely confused about what point she was trying to make. Then it hit her.

"You do not think…"

"We all know that You-Know-Who hated Muggleborns, and that he could talk to snakes… is it that far a stretch to think that he could be the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Again? Can't he go on a nice holiday, somewhere sunny maybe?" Ron complained.

"I doubt the first thing on the Dark Lord's itinerary is sipping Sauvignon Blanc on the Costa del Sol, Ronald, but at least some of us can think that a homicidal megalomaniac has the capacity to do so," Lacie retorted, her words seeping sarcasm into the air.

"Just a thought," Ron replied, "But it's not like there's someone walking around with You-Know-Who on the back of their head."

"My scar hasn't done that strange indicator thing either, so… he's definitely not sharing a body."

"My money is on Lockhart," Ron said, "There is no way that someone with an ego as big has his disarmed a ghoul with a teapot- …"

"Tea strainer," Hermione corrected.

Ron glared at her, "I'm going to pretend that you know that because you're annoyingly smart and not because you have any level of admiration for Lockhart."

"This is irrelevant," Lacie snapped, "What is important is that there is someone new to consider."

"Lacie, I don't think it's You-Know-Who, he's most likely still too weak from the last time we met him," Harry said sadly, and Lacie noticed he subconsciously rubbed his forehead as if willing it to ache.

 _Then who is it? Who is the Heir of Slytherin, and why was an old diary even important in it all?_

Finally, Hermione gingerly picked up the diary, and inspected the cover, slowly glancing at the indentation indicating its owner. Her fingers felt the void in the leather and then she looked up with a weak smile, "So, anyone know who T. M. Riddle is?"

Lacie noticed that Harry looked pointedly at Ron for a moment, whom reluctantly said, "He was awarded a trophy for Special Services to the school fifty years ago."

Lacie could not control her jaw as it dropped slightly, leaving her mouth slightly ajar. Ron narrowed his eyes. "Surprised that I actually know something, Malfoy?"

"Hardly, it is the fact that you have said something of actual importance that astounded me," Lacie said, with as much contempt she could muster.

"You're going to get hexed one day Malfoy, and I swear to Merlin that I will watch instead of help you," he replied with almost as much contempt.

Hermione put her hand on Lacie's arm, with a warning shake of her head. Lacie bit back her retort. She did not need the likes of a Weasel-king to be her knight in shining armour, and if the comments about his wand work were to be believed, he would end up killing her, instead of protecting her. Lacie was more than capable of defending herself, and she did not need _Ronald Weasley_ risking his freckles for her. _The shame that my family would endure if a_ Weasley _outdid a Malfoy at duelling, the irreparable shame…_

"This diary is fifty years old, too," Hermione said, changing the topic, before Lacie could rekindle the argument.

"So?" Lacie asked in exasperation.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her, "The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago and Riddle got an award for Special Services _fifty years ago_ …"

"And you're thinking…" Harry said, catching onto Hermione's train of thought, a thought that Lacie was jumping to as well.

"Maybe Riddle caught the Heir last time, and that's what the _Special Service_ was… it would make sense…" Hermione finished. "I just wish that he wrote down what the 'horror within' was so that someone could get rid of it now instead of waiting for more Muggleborns to be Petrified."

"So, this Riddle person, do you think he knew You-Know-Who?" Harry asked, "If we believe the theory that You-Know-Who is the Heir?"

His question hung heavily in the air, but no one answered him. Lacie watched as Hermione flicked through the pages absent-mindedly, possibly looking for a note from Riddle to help them, but she knew that Hermione's efforts were futile. Lacie had gone through the diary herself and saw that there was nothing. It was as if Riddle had received it one year, and forgot that he had it, and it somehow ended up her father's possessions. Maybe Dobby her house elf had put the diary in a place where Harry would find it, in hopes to solve all his problems. Maybe the connections that it had to her family was a somehow a series of coincidences. That is all that it was, a coincidence. _I have to make sure that Father knows nothing of this…_

"I will write to Father tomorrow and ask about the diary," Lacie said over the small talk that others were making about the diary. "Maybe he knew Riddle, and that's why he had his diary."

"Lacie…"

"I need to prove to you that my family have nothing to do with these events, the Petrifications are not… that Draco has not got anything to do with it…" Lacie ran a shaky hand through her hair, "I love my brother, and I need him to not be the cause of these Petrifications."

Her raised arm fell flaccidly and she looked at her ink-stained hands. _When had they touched so much ink?_ She wondered to herself, and then remembered that Harry's inkpot had exploded when the dwarf had caused his bag to split during the singing Valentine. Lacie had no doubt that little Ginny Weasley had sent it to him, as Lacie had often caught the girl stealing glances over at Harry. There was something that was more pressing, though. Her mind was trying to push her away from that train of thought, as there was something more important to be noticed at the moment. Everything had been drenched in ink; even Draco had pinched the edges of the diary, in vain, to keep his fingers clean.

Lacie watched as Hermione continued to browse the diary. The diary had been covered in ink, yet the pages were bare…

"My hands are stained with ink," Lacie said simply into the silence. The others looked at her with a confused expression. She thrust her hands forward, palm facing up, to show them the faded ink that was all over her hands. "There was ink _everywhere_ , but the diary is completely clean."

"Maybe it's enchanted," Ron said simply.

"Why would you take the time to enchant a diary to protect it from ink, but never write in it?" Lacie asked.

"Maybe because Riddle did the spell, wrote in it, and realised he couldn't because it was protected," Ron replied in exasperation.

"Hermione, can you give the diary to me?" Harry asked, a little too quickly. Lacie suspected that he only did that to prevent another round of verbal sparring between Ronald and her. There was definitely no love lost between the pair. Lacie crossed her arms, as she watched Hermione give Harry the diary. Harry opened it clumsily, lifted his quill and began to write something in it. The wet ink glistened in the candlelight for a moment before the paper absorbed it. Lacie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was a simple spell, there was nothing to…

 _Hello, Harry Potter, my name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. How did you come across my diary?_

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione watched as Harry communicated with the diary and she felt a small unease. Surely the diary was unsafe, especially if it could talk back. Magical items were magical, but this seemed… _dangerous_ , like it had its own consciousness, its own thoughts and manner of thinking, and for an inanimate object… Of course, Hermione was going to have to do some research into it. There had to be cases where books could talk to you as if you were having a conversation… surely.

Beside her, Lacie had paled slightly. Hermione watched as thoughts ran through Lacie's mind, and she was wondering what had gotten her friend so worried. Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Harry, you need to stop."

"Are you mad?" Ron asked. Harry looked equally surprised.

"Hermione is right," Lacie said finally, "I really do not think that it should be doing that."

"He knows about the Chamber of Secrets, can't you see that Riddle is helping us?" Harry asked in disbelief. He turned to Hermione, "Surely, _you_ would want to know _something_ about it."

"I think the diary is dangerous, more dangerous than you think it is," Lacie said. "I would give it to McGonagall."

"You have gone mad," Ron said, "Both of you, _barking mad_."

"We're mad?" Hermione asked incredulously, "We're not the ones desperately writing in a diary and waiting for it to answer, can't you see how dangerous it is?"

"A charmed cup that talks isn't dangerous," Ron said, "What's so different about a diary?"

"Charms wear off cups within days, or depending on how powerful the charm was, a year or so," Hermione answered, "The person who charms it can tell the cup what to say or do, or whatever, but that diary, not only does it seem to have its own consciousness, but it would have been charmed for _fifty years_ , what kind of magic is _that strong_?"

Ron seemed loss for words for a moment before he said with a smile, "Curses, Dad is always working with cursed things that are decades old."

It took him a moment to realise what he had just said aloud. Hermione raised an eyebrow as he muttered under his breath.

"Dark magic," Lacie whispered ominously, and the three of them looked at the diary in a new perspective. Harry, it seemed, was writing fervently in the diary that they had been talking about.

"Harry?"

He looked up, and said with a blank face and an almost vacant smile, "He's going to show me what happened the last time that the Chamber was opened."

There was a flash of light, and he was gone.

* * *

 _A/N: Updated this a day early as I'm busy over this weekend, but I hope you don't mind too much.  
_

 _This and the one before was originally a single chapter, but it felt too long winded as one, so it got split into two, it was also one of my least favourite chapter(s) to actually write, but I hope you enjoyed it :)_

 _Apologies if any French was inaccurate, don't be afraid to point this out to me._

 _CSxo_


	17. Interlude III

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Interlude III**

* * *

So was their sanctuary violated,  
So their fair college turned to hospital;  
At first with all confusion.

 _Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'The Princess'_

* * *

Dearest Father,

There have been many strange happenings at Hogwarts. People are getting Petrified, well, not just any people but Muggleborns in particular. The person that is claiming responsibility for it seems to be someone purporting to be the Heir of Slytherin. Personally, I think that it is an impostor claiming to be Slytherin's heir. If I recall correctly, the last remaining Heirs of Slytherin are spread across the world, and none of them are students at Hogwarts… which is more than likely why there is a ridiculous rumour floating about. There are claims Harry Potter is the Heir. Can you imagine a less than likely candidate? Although, with Harry being a Parselmouth… it's speculation and hearsay of course…

The reason why I am writing this letter is because there is a diary at school, and I seem to remember seeing it in the cellar a long time ago. I may be mistaken though, but I thought I should ask nonetheless. It belongs to a boy called T. M. Riddle and has the enchanted ability to write back to whatever you write in it. It is a brilliant enchantment, but I can imagine that it is the work of a powerful wizard, and it could be potentially dangerous. I hope that it is not the same diary and my memory is incorrect. I was just hoping that you could tell something me to ease my mind.

In any case, I was wondering if you did know anything at all about the Chamber of Secrets. It would seem that the last time that it was opened, a Muggleborn died. Is that true? Did a Muggleborn really die? I do not mean to be impertinent but…

There also may be evidence that implicates Hagrid. There was a moment where the diary seemed to pull Harry into a memory that is contained, that showed him the day that Riddle caught the monster responsible for the attacks. Harry said that Hagrid seemed to be caring for the monster, and seeing as he was later expelled… Was it really Hagrid? Hagrid seems so… docile, and he cares so much for the students of Hogwarts regardless of blood purity. Furthermore, it would be slightly hypocritical for him to be prejudiced, considering that he is probably half-giant… I just do not think that Hagrid was capable of something like it, he is my friend, and… I do not believe it for a second.

I do not expect anything from you father, but I just do not want to believe that you had any part in the events of this year. I do not want to think that you would hurt my friends, and that you sent me away because you knew that certain things were going to affect them. I love you, Father. I hope you are not the monster that my friends will have me believe that you are.

Yours,

Lacerta.

PS. I apologise for the blood on the envelope. Draco's stupid rook was pecking my hand for food as I was tying this to Adelais' foot. He needs to learn how to control the bird before someone roasts it for dinner out of spite.

x-x-x-x-x

Dearest Draco,

I am saddened to hear that you will not be returning home for the Easter holidays. Is it truly too much to ask for you to see your mother for some time outside of the summer holidays? I miss you terribly and I hope that school is going well for you.

With regards about suggestions to what subjects you should consider taking next term, it is truly up to you, and your father and I will stand by whatever you choose. Of course, you are more than intelligent enough to do Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, so you should involve them in your choices. Care of Magical Creatures is another option that I would suggest. I would also suggest Muggle Studies, if you are to be the future Minister for Magic, you will have to liaise with the Muggle Prime Minister and it would not be a bad idea to get a foot in the door of that world, that is only your silly mother talking.

I also never liked Divination, but you should talk to your sister about that, I hear that she had an eventful few lessons of the subject at Beauxbatons.

All my love,

Mother.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco,

Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are the only subjects you should considering pursuing. The fact that Muggle Studies is still being taught in that institution is laughable, but it is an option due to the wishy-washy harmonious nature of school Governors. Divination is another pointless subject you need not concern yourself with.

Father.

x-x-x-x-x

Dearest Lacerta,

Are you and your brother conspiring against me by both deciding to remain at Hogwarts? Furthermore, have you decided what you want to take as your additional subjects in third year yet? I saw Adelais around the Manor not too long ago so I know you still can owl me.

Please respond as soon as you receive this, or I will get Athena to pester you incessantly until you send a reply.

Mother.

x-x-x-x-x

Dearest Mother,

No, I did not even know that Draco was staying behind. We are not exactly talking at the moment - not because of sibling rivalry, before you write to Uncle Sev and have him conduct a meeting between us two – because I have a lot on my plate at the moment. I have my remedial classes in order to get ready for exams and Miss Belle-Faire has upped my ballet regime so I do not fall behind.

I did not write about my third-year choices because I chose on the day, I did not want to dilly-dally with my decision and change my mind. I am happy with my choices.

Also, I wrote to father a week ago with Adelais and she has not returned… have you not seen her flying about?

Yours,

Lacie.

x-x-x-x-x

Tom…Tom?

 _Ginny? Is that you?_

Yes, yes it is! Oh, Tom you wouldn't believe… I'm so sorry I tried to push you away. I will never ever do that ever again! I'm so glad that I have you back!

 _You tried to push me away?_

It doesn't matter, I have so much to tell you. Draco Malfoy thought that would be a good idea to goad me into sending Harry a singing Valentine, and now I'm sure he hates me! He tries to avoid me all the time, and he's closer to Lacie than ever. Her own brother warned me that this was going to happen as well, and I… well, I have no one else to talk to about it all. I know that my crush on Harry is ridiculous, but I only wish that he would _talk_ to me.

 _And what of Hermione?_

She is attention seeking as ever, but she seems too preoccupied with hiding from Malfoy to worry about anything else. That's the best part of people thinking that you are simply an invisible first year, you notice more about people's interactions than anyone else.

x-x-x-x-x

N,

I fear that I may not be here much longer. If you need me, your owl should find me wherever I am.

Z.

x-x-x-x-x

Z,

They cannot remove you from office, if they do, then Hogwarts will fall on dark times. I fear for my children, more so for my daughter as she attracts danger like a moth to flame. Protect them.

N.

x-x-x-x-x

N.

Do not doubt for a moment that your children's safety is compromised. Anyone who resides here will always be protected, as it is the safest place on Merlin's earth. Have faith, be strong.

Z.

x-x-x-x-x

I hate that stupid, bushy-haired, snotty cow of a human being.

 _Hermione Granger has done something yet again?_

I was trying to wish Harry good luck for his Quidditch match, and she was there and was just in the way as usual. Harry only tolerates her because he's so protective with her being a stupid Muggle-born. If she wasn't one he wouldn't even bother with her because she's so annoying.

 _Hermione Granger is… a Muggle-born?_

Yes, that's why everyone simply adores her, she has no knowledge of the magical world aside from being in Hogwarts and she is _soooo_ clever and manages to have pureblood friends.

 _How much do you hate her?_

Well, not so much that I've wrote about it, I always feel better when I talk to you.

 _But don't you hate her? Don't you hate how every time you have tried to win Harry's affections or his attention, she is always in the way? Always there, and always will be… and her best friend is Lacie, another girl who wouldn't be in Harry's line of sight, had Hermione not been there? Don't you hate how your brother respects a girl who isn't his own blood, his sister? Poor Ron is under her spell too, pushing you away for a stupid, bushy-haired cow of a human being…_

No… well, yes, I hate her, I do! I…

 _Yes, my dear sweet Ginny… let the anger course through you. You hate Hermione Granger, all the hurt and anguish is because of her, let the silent rage seep into every fibre of your being, you deserve to feel so angry._

 **I DO. I –**

 _Now, shall we tell Miss Granger exactly how we feel, with a little friend of mine?_

 **YES.**

x-x-x-x-x

"Lacie!"

Harry was in his Quidditch robes as he ran into the classroom that Lacie was having her ballet lesson in. Harry was breathless, and didn't know how to say the words that were stuck in his throat. Even McGonagall daren't break the news to her, choosing Harry to be the messenger instead.

 _Was she afraid of being shot at?_

"Aren't you supposed to be playing Quidditch?" Lacie asked, but her tone was expressionless. Her feet were making small movements as she slowly turned on her toes, her arms frozen in the air. She was concentrating completely on her dancing. Harry stared at her, and was transported for a moment. She looked exactly like the ballet dancer ornament that was displayed in the Dursley sitting room. He had also never seen Lacie look so, gentle and delicate whilst being so strong at the same time. He shook himself out of his reverie, as there were bigger problems.

"Hermione's in the Hospital Wing."

Lacie's reaction was immediate. She span too fast to turn to Harry, and lost her balance, with her ankle bending in a painful way. She fell onto the floor with a loud bang. Her teacher ran forwards to help her up, but Lacie managed to pull herself up on her own. She dusted off her clothes and made careful steps to Harry, an icy storm brewing in her grey eyes.

"Why?"

Harry couldn't say it for a moment, the explanation getting caught on their way out. It was the one thing that he had been dreading to say aloud for the past year, let alone the past five minutes. He didn't even have to say it. Lacie knew.

"She was with you, what happened?" The words came out low, barely even a whisper, but each enunciation of each syllable was laced with anger.

"She went to the library… she said she had something to find… that she finally understood something and needed to research it at that moment," Harry jogged behind Lacie who was waddling towards to the Hospital Wing with her ballet shoes still on, and with a small limp. She was struggling to walk a bit.

"Here, I'll carry you," Harry offered, and Lacie nodded. He stopped to let her jump on his back.

"Your back is all sweaty," Lacie complained.

"I ran all the way from the Quidditch pitch in these robes, what did you expect?" Harry asked. This seemed to be an acceptable answer for Lacie as she had put her arms around his neck to balance a little more.

He managed to carry her all the way to the Hospital in a speedy enough manner that she didn't complain about not getting there fast enough. Before they had arrived at the doors, she had jumped off his back and darted into the Hospital Wing. Harry paused before he entered, bracing himself. Harry had not been there since the last time Hermione had been there, and now there were far more curtains surrounding beds, hiding the sight of Petrified Muggleborns. Harry felt a lump rise in his throat, he felt so helpless, as if he should have done more. He could speak to snakes and yet, he couldn't speak to the thing that had Petrified one of his best friends. He hadn't done anything. He should have protected Hermione, she was a Muggleborn after all, and it was only an amount of time before it happened.

"Hermione!" Lacie screamed, the name echoing off the walls of the Hospital Wing. She collapsed to her knees, her eyes filling with tears. The lump in Harry's throat hardened.

"What happened?" Harry asked Madam Pomfrey, who was fluffing the pillows around Hermione's head. Not that she needed them, his friend looked far too frozen in place to care.

"She was found in the library with another girl," was her sombre reply.

Ron was stood on the other side of the bed. There was a contest to which was clenched harder, his fists or his jaw. His eyes met Harry's.

"Harry, we're going to get the prick who did this."

Harry nodded. Even if Harry hadn't wanted to be involved, the Heir had brought the fight to his door.

And Harry was not going to back down.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Z.

You promised none of my children would be harmed. That girl is one of mine and yet you have failed me. I need to know that all that I have done, am doing and will be doing is not futile. I need to know you can keep your promises.

N.

x-x-x-x-x

N.

I hear that certain parts of France are perfect during the summer.

Z.

PS. I did fail you, but more so, I failed her and the boy. This storm will be over soon.

x-x-x-x-x

Dearest Father,

I do not know if you received my previous letter, but Adelais has not returned and so I think she may have gotten lost or Draco's bird may have pecked her to death. I'll try and be concise with what my previous letter contained. There's a diary that seems familiar, some evil being is petrifying Muggleborns and Hermione is one of the victims. Someone claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin is admitting to these attacks. Was it Hagrid? I hear that he was removed from Hogwarts today by Order of the Minister for Magic. Dumbledore is gone… what is going on?

Lacerta.

x-x-x-x-x

Mother,

Is Adelais still at the Manor? I wrote to Father not long ago, and she is a young owl and should have arrived safely and returned, please can you check if she is indulging herself too much in the owlery?

Yours,

Lacerta.

x-x-x-x-x

Dearest Lacerta,

She's not in the owlery, and I have not seen her fluttering around the Manor. Maybe she is on her way back to Hogwarts?

Hope you are safe. I am sorry about Hermione.

Love always,

Mother.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacerta,

I have not seen your owl, nor do I care to. I am a very busy man, especially since your Headmaster has failed in his job to protect his students, which has meant double the work for me. Do not send me silly questions pertaining some silly fantasy, and do not dare to pursue to find an answer. There is none. Accept that this is a factor of life.

Your Father.

x-x-x-x-x

Tom, I'm scared. Hermione Granger was attacked in the library today, and the last thing I remember is when we talked about her a little.

 _Isn't that a good thing? Don't you want to get rid of her?_

Yes, but… no! I… can't. She's too close to Harry and it hurts him and that hurts me, oh, Tom please, please tell me that you didn't do anything!

 _Next time I'll hurt Harry._

I told you I was sorry, I am so, so, so, so sorry for pushing you away and I feel so guilt-ridden for doing so. I didn't mean it! I never meant to hurt you. I didn't want to do it but I was so scared. Please, please, please never hurt someone again. I promise I'll do anything. Just please don't hurt Harry. Please, Tom. I beg of you. Just…

 _If you discard of me again, I'll hurt everyone you love._

I'll never do it! You're my best friend, I promise. I will give you anything to make you happy. Just don't hurt my family, or Harry…


	18. Strings Were Wreath'd with Lambent Fire

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen: Strings Were Wreath'd with Lambent Fire**

* * *

 _And ask ye why these sad tears stream?_  
 _Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?_  
 _I had a dream–a lovely dream,_  
 _Of her that in the grave is sleeping._

Alfred Lord Tennyson from "And ask ye why these sad tears stream?"

* * *

Draco sat on his bed with his curtains drawn, his heavy head resting in his hands.

 _I gave her that mirror to protect herself, the stupid girl, how could she… after all I have done… But… how am I any better? I, too, have sent Hermione Granger to the Hospital Wing_.

For some reason, his chest ached when he learned that Granger had been Petrified and had been sent to the Hospital Wing. Yet, he pretended that he was irritated because she had not been the Muggleborn to die. This in turn, irritated him more. He should not have had to pretend. He did not even like her. He most likely was not himself, he supposed. These were Lacie's emotions pouring into him and as her twin, and he was getting a portion. He did not care that Granger was in the Hospital Wing. He did not. He could. But he did. He cared, because he had tried to _protect_ her. He had given her the mirror that she had been found with, because he had specifically requested it from his Mother, because he wanted her safe.

That was only because she was his sister's friend, nothing more. Well, maybe a little more. Maybe because she was his… he could not even think it out loud. He tried blocking the emotions. His emotions were a candle, and he was going to blow them out…

"Draco? Are you in here?"

Draco steadied himself, took a deep breath before opening the curtains that draped around his four-poster bed, readying his face to mask his true emotions. It was Theo. Draco instantly grinned at his friend.

"I was just imagining Hufflepuff beating Gryffindor today, seeing as we were denied the luxury of actually seeing it," he lied. Theo looked for a moment as if he was absorbing the lie and believing it, and then rolled his eyes before sitting on the bed.

"Draco, you can tell me the truth."

"That is -…"

"Even if you do not fancy her, you still think of her as your friend."

"What friendship? I must have sent her to the Hospital Wing at least five times."

"And it breaks your heart every time," Theo snickered. "The course of true love is often cruel and merciless…"

"Shut up," Draco said with a small smile, nudging his friend. His smile dropped for a moment, "I do not want her to die."

"That is probably the most honest thing you have ever said," Theo said, "And we have known each other for, I suppose… twelve years?"

Draco did not respond, not even with a smile.

"I do not want her to die either, because that would mean you would probably be the cleverest in the year and I do not think that our fellow Slytherins could cope with the ego," Theo said with a grin. Draco shoved him so hard he almost fell off the bed. Theo's responding laugh was so infectious, that he soon had Draco roaring too.

When he finally sobered, Draco said, "Thank you."

To which his friend replied, with his hand limply on his heart, "Only for our fellow Slytherins."

x-x-x-x-x

Hagrid was gone. Dumbledore was gone. Loudspeakers that Lacie did not know even existed blared out curfew information and the names of people who were not in the places they were supposed to be. The library was under constant supervision. The grounds were off-limits. Every student at Hogwarts had to be accounted for at all times. No exceptions. Even meal times were regimented; the odd years would eat first, then the evens. Spare time was not to be spent wandering the castle, instead everyone was cooped up in the Common Room, and trips to the library to complete homework assignments worked on a rota basis.

Even if her best friend were not in the Hospital Wing, life at Hogwarts was quite bleak.

As Harry, Ron and Lacie knew Hermione, they were allowed to visit her, once a day for ten minutes under the escort of a teacher. Most of the time it was McGonagall, their Head of House, that escorted them but there were other teachers that were given the privilege of a well-earned leg exercise. Most people were not given that privilege to visit Petrified friends for some reason, as if it would be unsafe for students to stray from the group. However, Madam Pomfrey seemed to insist on them making regular visits, like it was the fulfilment of a promise she had made.

"So, I hear that Theodore Nott has taken a liking to Pansy Parkinson, not that anything will come into fruition. Pansy is far too obsessed with the idea of being almost engaged to my brother to care for other prospects, even if my brother could do far better," Lacie nattered, as she brushed Hermione's hair gently. The pose Hermione was in was unsettling to look at, so Lacie often tried to do something, like straighten Hermione's robes, or tie up her shoelaces perfectly. She was willing to do anything to detract from looking at her friend in the bigger picture.

"Anyway, Draco will most likely do what Father asks of him, as he carries the heavy burden of the family name," Lacie continued, "Even though he would be much more content with someone like you."

Behind her, Ron gagged.

Lacie stopped what she was doing and turned to glare at him, "What?"

"Thank Merlin she's Petrified, or else she would bite your arm off for saying what you did," he replied. "You know she hates Malfoy."

"They say love and hate are very close," Lacie said simply.

"Oh yes, You-Know-Who has tried to kill Harry twice now because he just loves him so," Ron said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. When there was no response from his friend, he elbowed him, "Harry? What's wrong?"

"If Hermione was reading a book, why did she have her arm out?" Harry asked, his gaze not faltering from Hermione's Petrified body.

Ron jolted, as if he had been hit with something, "Oh, I forgot! You two arrived late, Madam Pomfrey said that she had been found with a mirror, like she had pulled it out and had started looking at it."

Lacie was secretly annoyed that Ron had forgotten such a vital piece of information. It was almost as if she had expected him to do it, but she had not necessarily wanted it to happen. It was so archetypal of him, she thought to herself.

"Hermione, with a mirror?" Lacie asked incredulously, inspecting her friend's face, "The angle of her arm doesn't look as if she was looking at herself in it."

"Maybe she was using it to look around corners?" Harry asked.

 _But, why?_

Maybe she knew something that they did not? Maybe this time the Heir of Slytherin thought it would be too dangerous to keep her around and Petrified her? Why the Heir not just kill her? It was an awful train of thought, but Hermione's Petrification left too many questions unanswered. Another pressing question still irritated Lacie.

 _Why was Hermione in the library before the Quidditch match?_

"Harry, tell me what happened that day, I want to know every moment, every _smell_ , everything before Hermione rushed off to the library," Lacie said.

Harry pulled a face before closing his eyes. He gave his temples a bit of a rub before saying, "I remember being nervous, but I usually am before every match, and I remember having breakfast with her…"

"Did she leave at breakfast?"

"I already told you, she left after breakfast, just before I headed towards the doors outside."

"But what happened? Why did she leave?"

Ron answered her, "I remember telling Harry not to worry, because the Heir of Slytherin wasn't going to attack during a Quidditch match, as everyone would be outside to watch it…"

"Famous last words," Lacie added.

"I said that I hadn't heard that voice – you know, the one that was like death – that day and that usually was the indicator of an attack…" said Harry.

"Then Hermione said that it was strange that Harry could hear that voice, and even though she had been around when Harry had heard the voice, she hadn't heard anything," Ron said, "To which I said, maybe that it was a perk of being the Heir of Slytherin."

"Unappreciated remark, by the way," Harry commented.

"Duly noted."

"Unrelated digression, is that when she rushed off to the library?" Lacie asked.

"Yes," Harry said, "Although, I have no idea what Ron or I said that sent those cogs in her head spinning."

"It's like the Heir knew that we would need her the most, and…" Ron said, biting his lip and looking at Hermione for a moment, then looking away. "Without Hermione, who would tell us useful information about everything?"

"We need to focus for a moment," Lacie said, as much as she wanted to think about Hermione, and about how she was Petrified and how it was tragic, but had the roles been reversed, Hermione would be in that library and determined to find the answer. Merlin, she was in that library until the very end, trying to solve the puzzle with dogged determination.

"The answer is in what you were talking about," Lacie articulated, "'The perks of being the Heir of Slytherin'."

"So far, there have been none, by the way," Harry retorted.

"Harry, you are not the Heir of Slytherin, even though…" Lacie stopped mid-sentence, and her jaw fell open, "Harry, you are the only Parselmouth in the school."

"I think it would be harder to pin the unfulfilling title of Heir of Slytherin on me if I wasn't," Harry replied tonelessly.

"Slytherin's monster? Oh, I am annoyed I did not see this sooner!"

Harry's eyebrows were furrowed, and a dash of wonder was marked on his face, "You don't think…"

"A snake?"

"A great big one," Lacie answered. "I have heard stories about a particular snake that is so deadly, its stare can kill you."

"What's it called?"

Lacie tried hard to remember, she went into the recesses of her mind for the answer but it wouldn't appear. It was a story of her forgotten childhood, a scary story her mother told before bed as a warning: be good or the Doxys will bite you, go to bed or you will be stolen in the night and swapped… do not separate from the group or the big, bad snake will look at you and kill you… She begrudgingly had to admit she did not know.

"Hermione must have known what it was, because she used the mirror to try and look at it," Ron deduced, "She didn't want to look at it head-on, because she knew she would die."

Lacie knew as much, and she did not need Ron to vocalise her thoughts. She sighed. She looked at Harry, who was still staring at Hermione.

"What is it now?" Lacie asked. As of late, Harry had an attention to detail she had not noticed before. He was forgetful, that much was true, but when he put his mind to it, he seemed to notice more about his surroundings that she ever did… and she had been trained to notice any changes in her surroundings in order to protect herself.

"Why is her other hand clenched so tight?"

In Lacie's determination to not view Hermione in the bigger picture, she had not noticed that her friend's other hand was tightly clamped around something. It was most likely her position, one arm outstretched, that caught her attention. Maybe it was because it was unsettling to see her friend this way, frozen, unmoving… almost like she was dead. Lacie resisted a shudder. She would not show weakness. Not at this present moment, as she had to be strong for her friend. Hermione had fought so many battles this year and had won them all; Lacie was not allowed to be the slightest bit worried, for her sake.

"Is that paper?"

A note? Hermione had written a note? Lacie looked at it closer.

"I think it is from a book," she remarked. Harry walked around the bed towards the hand and tried to wiggle the paper out from her clamped hand.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall poked her head through the curtains. Lacie, Ron and Harry froze. Harry's hand was clasped around Hermione's, as if he was giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I-I'm just letting her know that we're all here for her," Harry spluttered, his words tumbling out of his mouth.

McGonagall blinked for a moment, before saying in a raspy voice, "Say whatever you need to, you have five more minutes before I take you three to dinner."

After she had left, Harry went back to trying to get the piece of paper from Hermione's closed hand. Lacie hesitated for moment before saying, "What made you think of saying that to McGonagall?"

Harry looked at her, and it was as if she was looking at a new Harry. His green eyes shone behind his round glasses.

"Because it's true," he said, "If it was the other way around, Hermione would stop at nothing… she didn't stop at anything…"

"And Lacie," Ron added, "As much as you hate to admit it, all four of us are friends."

Lacie smiled, and she chastised herself for it. Her eyes kept glancing towards the curtains where McGonagall was most likely counting down the seconds before they had to leave. Then it would be another day before they could try and get the clue from Hermione's hand, and by then, the Heir could have attacked again. Dumbledore was not here as an ominous presence to deter the Heir anymore. They had to act quickly.

"Got it!"

Lacie turned to look at Harry so quickly that she was sure she had broken her neck for a moment as she lost all sensation. However, soon there was a horrible, creeping pain rolling up her neck. She watched as Harry's eyes darted across the page. After a moment, he let out a massive sigh.

Impatiently, Lacie snapped, "What is it?"

Harry's reply was something that Lacie dreaded, "It seems that we need to follow Hagrid's advice."

Beside her, Ron gulped loudly.

X-x-x-x-x

Draco was tired of being herded to and fro from room to room like common cattle. It was beginning to bore him. To the Great Hall, to and from the classrooms, to the Great Hall, to and from the classrooms, the library, the Great Hall then finally their Common Room. As everyone was stuck in the Common Room, it meant that the Common Room was over capacity most of the time. Finding even a surface to sit on was difficult, which meant that Draco would often spend time in his room. Unfortunately, he shared this room with other people. Furthermore, for some reason girls were also allowed in it, adding to its potential capacity. The last thing that Draco ever wanted was Pansy lurking in his bedroom. Despite his wishes, the rest of his dormitory thought otherwise and welcomed the company of Pansy and her friends.

If Draco knew who the Heir was, he would punch them squarely in the face. That was half the punishment they deserved for inflicting constant Pansy-time. He only wished it had been Potter, just to know what punching him felt like.

To his right, he saw his sister huddled with Potter and Weasley, muttering about something Draco did not particularly care for, but the sight did stab him with a bit of jealousy. McGonagall was following them, and Draco just knew that they had just visited Granger in the Hospital Wing. He did not know if he would have wanted to visit her, seeing her completely frozen and still. Draco had once snuck a head around the closed curtain of Colin Creevey, the halfwit fan of Potter, and it was a sight he did not want to see again in this lifetime, let alone Granger's Petrified body.

"Professor, how come _they_ get to do what they want?" To Draco's right, Pansy was creating a commotion. Draco resisted the urge to sigh loudly. However, he also resisted the urge to try and shut her up. She was not his problem. Yet.

 _Fortunately._

"Excuse me?" Professor McGonagall asked, stopping mid-walk to listen to Pansy.

"Whilst all of us are carted around the castle, those three…" Pansy waved a finger at his sister and her friends for emphasis, "…get to wander the castle as they please. It is not fair."

"We are only visiting our friend in the Hospital Wing," Lacie said calmly, "We are not tap-dancing in the mezzanine for our pleasure."

Draco knew under her cool exterior, she was boiling with anger. He could see it in her eyes.

"So? It is not like _you_ are the one Petrified…"

"Miss Parkinson -…."

"Look, you sorry excuse for a human being, our friend was attacked," Weasley interjected, barely able to get the words out with rage.

"Watch your tone," Theo said, stepping forward, putting an arm out, as if to protect Pansy. Draco rolled his eyes. Theo was showing his fondness for Pansy far too publicly. No wonder the rumours were spreading in full force about him.

"Well maybe your friend should reconsider what fairness is," Potter said, being as Saintly as he was he did not resort to insulting Draco's friends, how _noble_. Potter continued, "Not a single Slytherin has been attacked, and it's your Founder's monster that committing these acts, how is that fair on the rest of the school, that because your Founder was an intolerant git that we have a curfew?"

Draco suddenly felt anger and he, along with his fellow Slytherins hissed at the insult hurled at their Founder. _How dare he! How dare he insult the greatest Founder of the school? The temerity! He should be given a detention for such disrespect!_

"Mister Potter, please refrain from calling the Founders of the school…"

"How very Gryffindor of you," Pansy retorted over the Professor. "You are all so arrogant, the problem is never _you_ is it?"

"That insult cuts us all so very deep, Parkinson," Lacie said sarcastically, touching her chest with a limp hand. So very Lacie, licking her wounds by pretending she was not injured at all. However, Draco looked at her carefully. Despite Draco's assumption, she did not seem hurt. In fact, she seemed ready for attack. She was enjoying the confrontation like it was a hunt. Lacie was protecting her pride.

It was the first time that Draco heard Lacie refer to her former friend by her surname, and it was an action that had not gone unnoticed. Pansy was reeling from being called _Parkinson_ , and was glaring at Lacie. Lacie was not backing down either; the Malfoy stubbornness was rearing its ugly head once again.

"Shut up, _traitor_."

Lacie shot a glare at Pansy, and Draco felt that this was the moment to interrupt. Draco knew that if McGonagall had not been there, the Pansy would have used such an inflammatory insult that Draco may have jumped down her throat next to defend his family name.

"Pansy, be careful, that is my sister you are talking to."

"How can -…"

"She is my sister," Draco asserted, this time, his tone had a no-nonsense quality that Father would have been proud of. Pansy's mouth remained open but no words came out. If only that could be a permanent feature.

Lacie's glare moved towards Draco, to his surprise.

"I do not see why you care, you did wish for Hermione to be the unfortunate fatal victim of the monster, after all," Lacie snapped.

"That is enough, Elvias, please escort the students back to their Common Room, _now_ ," McGonagall said, her voice was raised enough so that no one could say anything over her. She started to shepherd Lacie, Potter and Weasley towards the Great Hall, away from the small crowd that was watching the spat unfold. "Everyone please be either leaving or going to the Great Hall, there is absolutely nothing to see here!"

Draco was suddenly aware that he was surrounded by the very Slytherins who had been mocking him for his closeness to Granger. He could almost hear the cogs working in Blaise's brain if he did not act appropriately in the situation. He could walk away, and leave the comment hanging in the air. Yet, if he did, it would be seen as a passing comment and he never meant truly meant it. He could not tell Lacie that it was a joke, again, although he had assured her that it had been.

He knew what he had to say, even though he did not want to so much as utter the words, in that particular order. A part of him started to understand why his father wanted him to keep his emotions under control, and if possible, locked away in his head. They were always in the way of everything. Also, if his voice so much as broke, the lie would fall like a house of cards.

"I did," Draco said slowly, he took a deep breath before he said the next sentence. He kept his mask in place, because his face would betray him in an instant if he were not careful. "Because the world would have probably been better off without her."

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry this is so late (it's 12.30am in the UK)._

 _Yes, Draco is an arsehole._

 _Also, this is one of my favourite chapter openers._

 _CSxo_


	19. Boundless Better, Boundless Worse

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: Boundless Better, Boundless Worse**

* * *

 _"If all be dark, vague voice," I said,  
"These things are wrapt in doubt and dread,  
Nor canst thou show the dead are dead._

Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'The Two Voices'

* * *

The gasps around him were almost tangible. He suddenly felt a sharp pain across his face. Lacie was somehow in front of him, and her hand was mid-air after slapping him. Lacie's eyes, the same eyes he had, was staring at him with such hatred. Then, they started to get wet. Draco's hand reached for his cheek, and even though internally he knew he deserved it, he sneered at her. The gesture made her raise her arm again for a second round. Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Miss Malfoy!" McGonagall said, but her gaze was not on Lacie, but rather on Draco. McGonagall was staring at him with disgust. Most of the people gathered in the Entrance Hall looked horrified at what Draco had said. Pansy, on the other hand, looked delighted. Blaise, surprised. Theo looked disappointed.

"But, Professor-…!" Lacie complained, ripping her hand from Draco's grip, "Did you even _hear_ what he said?"

"Sometimes people say the most awful things," McGonagall said, her gaze not faltering from Draco. Draco refused to back down, and his glower was firmly fixed on the Professor in silent retaliation. "However, we do not react by attacking them. As a punishment, you can no longer visit Miss Granger in the Hospital Wing."

"But - …"

"Mister Malfoy, I severely advise you to _never_ , in every definition of the word, speak about one of my students in that manner again, or I will suspend you… trust me, I do not take these comments lightly in the slightest. Professor Snape will be informed of this incident." McGonagall asserted, "Wipe that silly smirk off your face, Miss Parkinson, the things you have exchanged to each other tonight have been obscene, especially at this juncture. An inkling of respect is not too much to ask of from one other, and should it come to terms like this again, points will be deducted, and detentions will be given, is that understood?"

There was a faint 'yes' spoken in response.

"Now, Mister Potter, Mister Weasley, Miss Malfoy, the Great Hall, _now._ " McGonagall said, and then she raised her voice to the people around them, "Every student must return to their Common Room, immediately. Prefects, stop dawdling and get to it or I shall have your badges as well!"

Draco saw the glare that his sister was shooting him, and a small part of him felt unease. There was no time for those kinds of emotions, there had to be a point where the twins would fall of opposite sides of a battle. He had to keep up appearances.

"I hope you are happy with yourself," Lacie snarled.

"Touch me again, Lacerta, and Father will hear of it," Draco threatened, an eyebrow raised.

Lacie flinched, but seemed to recover as she mirrored his expression, "Run to Father, I have no qualms of offending a man I have no respect for."

With that, she allowed herself to be dragged away by Potter and Weasley. Her comment confused him. At what point did she lose respect for their father? Their childhood had been defined by them competing for their father's affections with Draco normally receiving it. What had their father done? The line of Slytherins moved forwards and Draco was forced to think about something else.

As he walked towards the direction of the Common Room, he was still confused by her comment. There was no reason for her to hold such distaste for their father. She was most likely still bitter about Father sending her to Beauxbatons, but that was childish of her. It was so very Lacie, actually. He had no time to entertain the idea that Lacie continued to begrudge Father for wanting the best for her. Draco shook Lacie's words off, they were the words of an immature girl throwing a tantrum.

As they descended into the dungeons towards the corridor, he felt something snake around his left arm, and to his dismay, it was Pansy.

"That was brilliant, Draco," she crooned, "I was scared for a moment that you actually did like Granger, but, I suppose you really do dislike her."

A bubbling anger that had been brewing for a while, suddenly, for no reason, erupted. Draco did not know how long this had been simmering, and it was a shock to his senses that it had appeared. Nevertheless, he was _angry_. More so at himself than Pansy, but he needed an outlet, and the opportunity presented itself. He ripped his arm from her grasp. Pansy's mouth fell open in surprise.

"In the future, Pansy, please refrain from talking to my sister, unless it is with something nice," Draco snarled. Her face was etched with shock. Then her expression changed and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why? I know that she is your sister, but that does not stop her from being a nasty little blood - …"

Draco knew what Pansy was going to say, and he wanted to hit her for it. The day, however, he would sink so low that he would hit a girl, would be the day he renounced his precious Malfoy status.

"Lacerta Malfoy is not only from one of the purest of bloodlines in this country, she also happens to be my twin sister, and if you so much as whisper a rumour or an insult, you will have me to answer to," Draco warned, his voice was so low that he was surprised he was not growling.

"How can you defend her, after she _slapped_ you? She attacked you like an _animal._ " Pansy said, aghast at his reaction to her.

 _Because I deserved it, for saying what I said?_ Draco could not say that out loud, though.

"Maybe if you had a brother or sister, you would understand," Draco said softly, and a faint smile appeared as he did so. He was taken aback by this, and looked away from Pansy, before firmly planting a frown onto his face. He walked quickly away from her, in the direction of the Common Room.

"She is not the sister you think she is anymore," Pansy called after him. For once she did not chase him, to Draco's relief.

 _I am not the brother she thinks I am anymore, too, Pansy._

x-x-x-x-x

"Does it ever get boring? Constant rule-breaking?"

Lacie stared at the person sat opposite her, before twirling some spaghetti on a fork. She had been caught sneaking to the Hospital Wing in the dead of night to visit Hermione, to tell her of her research into the basilisk, the final clue that made the whole year make sense. She owed that much to her friend, considering she was the one who put it all together in the first place.

According to McGonagall, that was not acceptable behaviour, and she could have been killed. Well, she would have said the last part, if she were not trying to protect the integrity of the school. As a result of her flagrant rule breaking, she was to be constantly monitored by the ever brown-nosing Percy Weasley.

"No," Lacie said, "I love the way my heart races as I break a rule, it is exhilarating, to say the least."

"There are other ways for your heart to race, without breaking rules, you know," Weasley scoffed.

"Well, that would probably involve a boy, so I am not…" Lacie's mouth fell open as she deduced something quicker than she ever had done before, "You have a boyfriend?"

Weasley turned a light shade of pink, "No, Malfoy, I don't have a boyfriend."

"That would be perfectly alright, you know," Lacie said, "One of my _distant_ cousins married a centaur, how that would work, I will never know, but wizards are allowed to marry wizards -…"

"I don't have a boyfriend, Malfoy."

Lacie could sense that he was getting bored, but there was something innate about grabbing the bone that Weasley had flung out for her to catch. All she had to do was keep pushing and there was an answer somewhere. She ate a forkful of spaghetti.

"Then you have a girlfriend," Lacie said. At that, Weasley reddened. Lacie smirked.

"It's none of your business," he finally said.

"It is, is that why you are irritated with me? Am I interrupting important girlfriend time?" Lacie asked unapologetically, "She has to be somewhat intelligent to keep up with you."

"Is that a backhanded compliment?"

"…And a Prefect too, I doubt you would want to risk being with someone who would potentially break your sacred _rules_ …"

"That's enough, Malfoy."

"There are the Gryffindor Prefects, they are pretty but not smart, which leaves the Ravenclaw Prefects, maybe someone in your year who you spend a lot of time with, class-wise…"

"Shut up," Weasley growled.

Lacie grinned. Then her mouth fell open. "Penelope Clearwater? _Really_?"

"You're a piece of work, Malfoy."

"No wonder you have all this free time to watch me, considering your girlfriend is Petrified in the Hospital with Hermione," Lacie said, pouting. She checked the clock in the Great Hall. Lacie pushed away her barely eaten dinner plate. "I am finished, and I need to go to the bathroom now."

Weasley glared at her, but he stood up as she did and followed her, indicating that he was not so annoyed at her that he was going to abandon her. _Typical brownnoser._ She made her way to the staircase to go to the first-floor bathroom.

"The girls' bathroom is over there," Weasley said, indicating with a nod of his head where the girls' bathroom on the ground floor was. Lacie rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but they will be crowded, and the last thing you probably want is to be seen waiting outside a girls' bathroom," Lacie said smoothly, hoping that he would fall for her bait. He stood there for a moment, weighing the options in his mind whilst fidgeting. Lacie added, "Unless, you _want_ to be seen outside a girls' bathroom by large crowds of girls…"

The decision seemed to make itself as Weasley glared at her again. "Fine, but no funny business Malfoy."

"Me?" Lacie said jokingly, relieved that her plan had worked. "Never."

He did not respond to that, and continued to follow her, all the way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"I don't understand why of all the bathrooms you choose, you want to go to the one that's haunted," Weasley said, suspicion creeping on his face.

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is the nicest one, obviously, on the odd occasion you have her flooding the place, but it is peaceful most of the time," Lacie replied. "Answering questions about Hermione does get tiring, I am sure you are aware of how it is."

"Well, no one really knows about…" Weasley said his face softening for a moment, before hardening again, "Not that it's any of _your_ business."

For a moment, Lacie felt really sorry for him. His girlfriend was Petrified, and to add insult to injury, he was assigned the one of the worst jobs he could possibly imagine. The perks of wanting to be Head Boy, she guessed. As she went to push the door to the bathroom, she turned to him.

"I am sorry about your girlfriend, truly," she said, quite sincerely despite herself. She went into the bathroom without seeing his reaction. She did not need to, because she would have seen the same thing as she had seen on her own face since Hermione had been Petrified.

"You're late."

Lacie snapped out of her reverie, and walked into the bathroom, where Harry and Ron were concealed in cubicles, waiting for her arrival.

"Sorry," was Lacie's only response.

"Sorry? I'm sorry, aren't you the one that always expresses the need for punctuality?" Ron asked with slight glee, " _Lateness is a sign of those who have no respect for time, and that is uncivilised_."

Lacie knew that he had been raring to use her words against her for a long time. It was only a matter of time before he did so.

"Do you realise that your brother is following me everywhere?" Lacie asked.

"Yes, which is why we're meeting here," Harry said.

"It isn't as if you're having the most scintillating of conversations with him," Ron retorted. Lacie was surprised for a moment that Ron even knew the word 'scintillating', let alone be able to use it correctly.

"That much is true," Lacie said, trying to look apologetic, "I guess that his girlfriend was not an interesting conversational point, so, shall we get to why we are here?"

"Percy doesn't have a girlfriend," Ron snorted quickly, with a smirk on his freckled face.

"If that is what you think," Lacie said with an all-knowing smile, "By all means…"

"No… I mean… Why would…?" Ron was stuttering between questions and assertions.

"It is irrelevant," Lacie said, she was secretly happy at Ronald's current inner turmoil. She turned to Harry, "Any luck on the spider front?"

"Most spiders are headed towards the Forbidden Forest, but there aren't many left in Hogwarts."

"When are you going to do it then?"

"We should do it tomorrow," Harry replied, "If I hear Lockhart say that it's Hagrid again, I may hex him."

Lacie snickered, there was no love lost between Harry and Lockhart, that much was true.

"There is also your brother," Ron said, "If I hear one more time about how your father was the saving grace of the school by suspending Dumbledore and that Snape should be Headmaster, I may curse him."

"Trust me, when it comes to cursing my dear brother, I am the first in line," Lacie said, glowering at Ron. "Talking about brothers, there is the problem of your brother, too."

"My brother? Can't you just sneak out when he's asleep?"

"I just think that it would be a better idea to use him to our advantage, seeing as he is following me at all times," Lacie said, "I could distract him whilst you two sneak out the Common Room."

Ron narrowed his eyes, "You're just trying to get out of following spiders, aren't you?"

Lacie rolled her eyes, "Fortunately, Ronald, I am not a complete coward when it comes to arachnids, I just think that it would be infinitely easier for you two to navigate the Forbidden Forest, than all three of us."

Harry looked over at Ron, and tilted his head in his direction. Ron glowered at Harry and then at Lacie.

"She has a -…"

"I know!"

Lacie knew that Ron was more irritated that he had not thought of the idea before she had, and that she did not have to face the spiders in the Forbidden Forest. He was probably also annoyed at how Lacie had altered the plan for the better, a move that Ron should have done.

Ron turned to look at her, "Fine, Harry and I will go to the Forest… you be the pain that you always are and need to create a distraction whilst we sneak out."

"Then it is settled," Lacie said with a smirk. Internally, she was glad for all the lessons her mother had rigorously put her through, as she had masterfully concealed her fear of spiders and had successfully gotten out of following them in a dark forest. She did not even care that he had slightly insulted her, so long as she did not have to go to a dark Forest and chase eight-legged arachnids, she was happy.

Before anyone could protest to the plan, Percy held the door slightly ajar and called for Lacie. Lacie ran towards the sinks to turn a tap on, and replied with, "Just a moment!"

Oddly enough, the tap she had chosen would not turn on, so she moved across to another one to wash her hands. As she walked towards the doors, she turned to the boys and said, "Do not forget, tomorrow night."

"What on earth took you so long?" Weasley asked as soon as she was out of the toilets and heading towards the Common Room.

"Did your mother not teach you that it is was rude to ask a lady what she did in a bathroom?" Lacie questioned back. She did not need to see the colour of Weasley's face as she sauntered off. She already knew.

x-x-x-x-x

She watched as they sat together in the Common Room. She watched as they cast furtive glances at each other as they pored over textbooks and notes. Another older boy sat a distance away, peeking occasionally over his large tome and frequently turning a page of it. She watched as the girl in the group chided at one of the boys for chewing the end of his quill, before turning to the boy in the glasses and smiling at him. Anger bubbled in her.

 _Now, now you must learn to control the anger._

She shook off the voice, the new voice in her head. For weeks this new voice had plagued her every thought, and was slowly growing stronger. It was getting harder to shake the new voice away and to make matters worse, it seemed her best friend was fading away. Tom wasn't writing to her as often as she would like, and that seemed to be another problem adding to her current list.

"Ginny?" a voice knocked her out of her thoughts. A hand touched her shoulder and a pair of concerned brown eyes obscured her view of the trio. "Are you okay?"

Ginny shook the hand off her shoulder and looked at the person speaking to her. It was her brother George. She looked at him before focusing back on the three.

"Yes, yes, of course," Ginny said, lying without a second thought. She didn't realise that it was so easy to lie these days.

Her other brother, Fred, swiped some of the papers that Ginny had been leaning on with a smirk before paling as he properly looked at it. Ginny tried to snatch the paper back, but Fred was quicker and taller. He passed the sheet to George, whose face also fell.

"Perce," George said in only a slightly raised voice, and the elder Weasley looked at George lazily. George gestured for Percy to approach, and he did, closing his book with a snap and carrying it under his arm. The three peered at her for a moment, before the girl and the boy in the glasses returned to their work, their heads ducked together as they whispered. The redhead looked at her with curiosity, and made to stand before thinking better and returning to his notes. George handed the stolen piece of parchment to Percy, who seemed to barely even read it before he dismissed the twins.

Percy sat in front her, completely blocking her line of sight.

"Ginny, what is this?"

She looked at the sheet that was now on the table in front her, there seemed to be more red on the parchment than black, and a mark on it that suggested that she had not done very well in it at all.

"My Transfiguration homework," she replied, she tried to remain calm and collected, just as the voice in her head had instructed her to be, time after time.

"If you are struggling with anything… you know that I am here to help you, don't you?"

She couldn't control the sharp twinge of rage that now flowed through her, and the voice in her mind repetitively told her to calm down but as she grew angrier the voice faded into blankness. _Percy only cares about how this reflects on him, and his chances of being Head Boy_. Ginny disregarded the caring look in his eyes, the way that he had come over from reading his book to check on her and leaving _her_ side for once.

The thought of _her_ riled her up even more. Her own elder brother was following _her_ around, as if she hadn't gotten everything she wanted anyway. She had her other brother, Harry, and now Percy. _She is a leech, if she was a Mudblood she would be on the first on my list._

Ginny wasn't even taken aback that she had used a slur. In fact, she was more concerned at how her own thoughts seemed to become smaller and fade. Her mouth twisted into a smirk but it wasn't her mouth.

"Of course, _Percy_."

Words slithered out of her mouth that weren't her words, and her arms moved of their own accord. She swiped the sheets of her failed work and stuffed them in her bag. She moved towards her dormitory, but she wasn't herself.

 _What is happening to me?_

When she slipped into her dormitory, she stopped in front of a mirror and pulled her lips into a haunting smile.

"Hello, Ginny."

 _Who are you?_

"I told you to keep your anger under control, but you chose not to listen. So, I am going to make you listen properly this time."

Ginny was confused for a moment, but then the world faded to black.


	20. He Walked With Dreams and Darkness

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

 **CHAPTER WARNING  
This chapter contains narrative pertaining to self-injury. If that is not your cup of tea, then please don't read. I'll leave a brief summary of what occurs in this chapter at the A/N at the bottom, if you're still intrigued by what this chapter contains.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen: He Walked With Dreams and Darkness**

* * *

 _Why fear? because that fostered at_ _thy_ _court  
I savour of thy-virtues? fear them? no.  
As Love, if Love be perfect, casts out fear,  
So Hate, if Hate be perfect, casts out fear._

Alfred Lord Tennyson from 'Merlin and Vivien'

* * *

"In addition to your homework, please don't forget that you are to hand in your chosen subjects for third year no later by tomorrow at 4pm," McGonagall announced as the class were packing away their bits of parchment and quills.

"I haven't even thought about what I'm going to do tomorrow, let alone third-year," Ron complained as he stuffed his notes into his overcrowded bag, before throwing it over his shoulder. He sat waiting and tapping his foot, which annoyed Lacie slightly.

"You have had all that time to choose, Ron, how do you not know yet?" Lacie asked, glancing at McGonagall furtively every so often, her notes were still pristinely laid out, ready to add any other thing McGonagall had to say. Unlike the rest of her class who were ready to escape the stifling classroom for lunch, Lacie had no such desire.

"Don't look at me like that, even Harry hasn't decided yet."

Lacie span around in her chair and narrowed her eyes at Harry as well. He responded by shrugging his shoulders.

"I think I've had bigger things to worry about this year," Harry said. "Also, I needed the time to weigh the positives and the negatives of every subject."

"What about you?" Ron said quickly, trying to divert the attention on Lacie.

"I decided on the day."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. Lacie sighed.

"The decision is not exactly _hard_ is it? I just chose subjects that I thought would be interesting."

"Like…?"

"Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies," Lacie replied.

Lacie was proud of her chosen electives, and even though she had not given them much thought or consideration, she knew she did not want to do Care of Magical Creatures, because she was not an outdoors person, nor did she care to learn about Magical Creatures in the practical sense. Divination had been a compulsory subject for _cinquièmes_ in Beauxbatons, and had been too vague a discipline for her to want to continue to study it for the next two years. That made the decision of striking it out easier. The choice of Muggle Studies was a slap in the face that was aimed at her father. She could almost hear her brother's admonitions ringing in her ears.

 _You just wait until Father hears about this_.

Lacie scoffed. _Yes, Draco, scurry along to Father like the good boy that you are._ Lacie could not wait to hear exactly what her father wanted to say on the matter.

"You? Muggle Studies?" Ron said incredulously, "Are you alright? Don't Malfoys think that Muggles are vermin to be exterminated in droves?"

Thankfully Lacie did not have to respond as McGonagall made another announcement for the attention-waning class.

"And another reminder, your second-year examinations begin next week."

McGonagall's parting words before she herded everyone towards the Great Hall for lunch left a sinking feeling in Lacie's stomach. She had not considered that there would be end-of-year examinations given all that had occurred that school year, but she chastised herself for ruling it out in the first place. After all, McGonagall's words after the protests of her fellow Gryffindors made sense. Dumbledore had left specific instructions for his Deputy, to keep Hogwarts running as usual, and there was nothing more usual than exams at the end of the year.

"Still…" Ron complained as he stabbed at the food at his plate, "They could have postponed it… why the rush?"

Lacie stared at her empty plate, unable to stomach the idea of lunch. She had a week to learn everything that she was supposed to have learned this year, which even after taking remedial classes did not amount to much. She resisted the urge to sigh dramatically as she reached over for a sandwich that she started to pick apart. Harry did not look any happier, as he sat staring at the empty space next to Lacie. Lacie wondered what was going through his mind.

In the corner of her eye, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan sat down noisily at the table. Seamus' face was red with indignation as Dean laughed, which only made Seamus redder. Dean caught her eye and grinned at her.

"Hey, Lace," Dean called out to her, before starting to shuffle down the bench towards her. "Seamus and I were discussing who would beat who in the exams next week, Hermione still Petrified or Seamus?"

Lacie chuckled despite herself before answering, "Hermione, in a heartbeat."

Dean's grin grew wider as he slapped Seamus across the arm before insisting, "Told you so."

"Thanks," Seamus muttered at Lacie sarcastically, before loading his plate up with food.

"Anyway, I was thinking that you and I could study together," Dean offered. "You can bring your notes, and I'll bring my sense of humour, it will be an educational comedy of sorts."

"Leave it, Dean," Ron said beside Lacie. Ron looked as amused as Lacie felt.

"Look, after Hermione, Lace here, has the neatest notes in the year, and I'm just hedging my bets. I may not be able to beat Hermione but I want to beat Ernie MacMillan, I don't think I could take another year of him telling me that he came eighth overall."

"Oh, where did you come?" Ron said mockingly with an overly posh accent, gesticulating with food still on his fork.

"I came sixteenth, but that's nothing to some," Dean replied equally as mocking, he turned to Lacie and asked her the same question.

"Joint third, with my brother," she said with a pout, "I apparently not only had to share a womb with him, but I also have to share exam results."

"For shame," Dean said with his toothy grin, but gave her a serious look again, "So, what you do say? A Malfoy-Thomas alliance against your evil twin and MacMillan?"

"I would have to politely decline, Dean," Lacie replied with a laugh. She noted that Cheryl was eyeing her up with a dirty look and when Cheryl looked away, Lacie nodded in her direction. "Looks like Cheryl would not mind studying with you though."

Dean looked over at her dismissively and turned to narrow his eyes at Lacie. Lacie raised an eyebrow, wondering what his complaint was. He chuckled softly before reaching for his sandwich.

Dean's chuckle was interrupted by the glare that was shot at someone approaching the Gryffindor table. In fact, Lacie noticed a lot of people were scowling. Lacie looked at the person who was approaching and suddenly her expression mirrored everyone else's.

"What do _you_ want?"

"To give you a message," her brother, Draco, said with a sickly sweet smile as he sauntered towards her.

"I do not want to hear anything that you have to say, Draco, so you should re-join your band of Muggle-born hating harpies."

Lacie's mood, which had been elevated by her exchange with Dean, suddenly crashed through the ground. If the ceiling were enchanted to mirror it, there would be hurricanes and thunderstorms throughout the Great Hall. Her comment did not appear to offend Draco, as he continued to smile. He sat down in the empty spot next to her, and Lacie inched away from him. It seemed that no amount of scowls or hostility could deter him. Draco clearly had no sense of embarrassment, which was another unfortunate Malfoy trait.

"I thought that you should know something about Granger."

"If I have to hear one more time -…"

"I overheard Professors Snape and Sprout talking, and it appears that the Mandrakes have matured," Draco interrupted.

"So?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, unable to answer back immediately. Lacie stopped herself from slapping him again. As satisfying as that had been at the time, she could not afford the potential punishment that McGonagall would give her. She was already being followed by Percy Weasley, who incidentally was watching the twins like a hawk and seemed ready to pounce at the first indication that the conversation was going downhill. Because of him, she was no longer allowed to visit her best friend in the Hospital Wing. Lacie dare not even think about what other unpleasant thing McGonagall had lined up for her if she broke the rules again.

"Are you taking remedial classes or not?" Draco asked, before shaking his head, thinking that it was an unimportant route to venture. "It means that they can make the Mandrake solution tonight, or tomorrow, and everyone who was Petrified will be cured."

The news seemed to inject a sense of relief in the people in the vicinity, like a ripple effect.

"That means that it is nearly over," Lacie whispered but her voice was slowing increasing in volume, "All those people will be able to tell us who the Heir of Slytherin is!"

Lacie looked over at Harry. He was still glowering at Draco, and there was a long pause before he said, "For some reason, I don't think that will make things better."

"Assume away, Potter, but I assure you I am not the Heir of Slytherin."

"The only one in this school who has a distinct distaste for Muggle-borns is you, Malfoy, so it is hard to believe that you're not trying to off them all."

"I am not the Parselmouth in the room," Draco snapped back. The relieved faces that surrounded them turned angry again, and they all bored into Draco. It was a hypocritical stance for the people around them to take though, Lacie noted, as most of them had most likely thought the same thing before Hermione had been Petrified. However, Lacie did not want this to escalate into a shouting match and for them to all receive detentions.

Lacie stood up, prompting Draco to do the same.

"I think you should go," Lacie said quietly.

"Of course, I did not expect more from you than to side with _Potter_ ," Draco retorted, "I thought doing the brotherly thing -…"

Lacie scoffed before hissing, "The _brotherly_ thing is not wishing death on my best friend."

Draco tried to say something for a moment, but words failed him. He took a deep breath and tried again, but again, it was as if the words caught in his throat. Without saying anything, he turned around and stormed off. Lacie watched him go, part of her wanted to call out to him. She wanted to know what he had wanted to tell her, as she sensed that there was something troubling him. Draco did not re-join his friends; in fact, he walked right out of the Great Hall, disappearing in the crowds of people who were leaving for afternoon class.

"Come on, we should go," Lacie said as she turned around. Ron was still eating and Harry looked like the last thing he wanted to do was attend afternoon classes.

"You know I'm right, even after the Heir of Slytherin is caught, it doesn't stop what people like your brother thinks about Muggleborns," Harry said as he stood up. Finishing his food, Ron wiped his mouth on a napkin before placing it on the table.

Lacie smiled as they walked towards the doors, "Well, maybe they will think differently soon."

Lacie could tell by Harry's expression that he was not too hopeful that it would happen. Lacie reached for his arm, and wound her arm around his. "Do you remember what I was like a year and a half ago?"

Harry blushed, mostly because Ron was theatrically pulling disgusted faces. Harry did not seem too bothered by Lacie's arm, and she rolled her eyes at Ron. Lacie was merely being playful, and of course, Ron was taking it entirely too seriously.

"Hi Ginny," Harry greeted as Ron's younger sister passed them. Ginny turned around, her face filling with wonder before blushing. The crush that she harboured for Harry was one of the worst kept secrets in Hogwarts, even before what had happened on Valentine's Day.

"Hi Harry," she gushed with a grin, before she saw Lacie's arm around Harry's. Lacie suddenly felt awkward and pulled her arm back, especially as Ginny glared at her.

 _What was with girls today and shooting me dirty looks for innocent interactions with their objects of affection?_

"Hello," Lacie said timidly. Ginny did not respond.

"Did you hear?" Harry said, clearly oblivious about the frostiness lingering in the air, "The mandrake solution is nearly ready, and everyone who was Petrified will be cured."

Ginny paled, if it was at all possible, given her already pale face. Her mouth felt open slightly before she spoke.

"So-So… they'll all w-wake? And t-tell the teachers who the Heir of-of S-Sly-Slytherin is?" The stammering of her voice worried Lacie, and she could tell that the girl was scared by something.

"Are you okay, Ginny?"

"I wasn't asking you," all trace of fear was gone, in place of it was contempt. Lacie took a step back, was it because she had been linking arms with Harry? It was a mere joke; the girl did not have to take it so seriously like her brother. However, nothing else had happened that could explain her sudden coldness towards Lacie, but her reaction had been too acerbic. There had to be more than simple boy pettiness.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Ron said, equally confused why Ginny had lashed out at Lacie.

Ginny rocked back and forth on her feet, her class getting further and further away from her, as if she wanted to say something important. She had the same expression on her face as Draco did before in the Great Hall, before he had walked quickly away. She had sensed then that there was an urgency to say something with him, and Ginny was no different. She only hoped that Ron had more luck with Ginny than Lacie had with Draco.

"I-I just…" Ginny said, before gulping and staring at her hands that had taken to fidgeting uncontrollably. "I n-need to…"

"What?" Ron said, "Just say it!"

"Is it about the Heir of Slytherin? The Chamber of Secrets?" Harry pressed.

At that moment, Weasley found them and said, "There you are, your class are already in Charms, unless you forgot that was where you're supposed to be." He looked at Ginny and frowned, "Ginny why are you dawdling in the corridor? Get to class… you shouldn't be having a mother's meeting in the corridor!"

The girl squeaked before sprinting off in the direction that the rest of her class had taken. Ron looked affronted at Weasley, before walking towards Charms. Harry followed, and as did Lacie. Percy Weasley, dutiful as ever, walked behind them. Before Ron stepped in the Charms classroom, he turned to Lacie and narrowed his eyes.

"What did you do to my sister?"

Lacie had expected this, considering Ginny had spoken to her as if Lacie had did something terrible and unforgivable to to the girl.

Her only response was, "Nothing, absolutely nothing."

x-x-x-x-x

Draco ran to the nearest broom closet, or closet, or confined space that he could find. He opened doors and doors to empty classrooms, before he found a small mop closet in the back of a forgotten corridor. His throat was closing in, and he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He fell against a wall, and slid down, scraping his hands in the process but his legs could no longer hold him up.

He wanted to tell her. It had been an act, he was pretending, he was only wearing a mask. It was like when they were children and listening to their father prattle about blood purity. Lacie and Draco would nod at every enunciation but not understand what was going on, it was only a mask, only a mask. That did not help Draco to breathe though, and the room was spinning around.

He wanted to tell her the truth.

That he only said it because he was keeping up appearances, and to make life less hellish for her. The crueller he was to Muggle-borns meant that his father was more lenient on Lacie, and sang his praises to the family ancestors rather than demonising her. The more backhanded comments he made, the more it stifled the mouths of the likes of Blaise Zabini who thought that he was a Muggle sympathiser. He needed to survive in his House and this was the only way he could, reconciling his opinions or not. He did not want to.

He liked Granger.

Not as a friend, but he did not hate her either. He especially did not hate her because she was a Muggle-born. He hated her because she was the girl who took Lacie away, and she was the girl who beat him relentlessly in every exam, and the fact that she was Petrified did not seem to ease Draco's prospects. She could still take the exams tomorrow and pass with flying colours, she was that damned clever. She was so damned clever but so, so ignorant of Wizarding legends and stories and customs and he hated her that she was so clueless but so clever all at the same time. He did not hate her because of her blood status.

And he hated himself for that.

He was a _Malfoy_ , pureblood, and Heir to one of the oldest Wizarding families in Britain and descended from Greek Gods to boot. He knew not many people advocated the latter point, as it was not a respected, but he at least respected that. He had been told countless times by his father that their family motto, their stupid family motto: _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_ , and there was nothing more important than the purity of blood. The previous summer, his father had called him privately into his office and ranted for hours how his sister had committed a heinous act of not only befriending a blood traitor but a _Mudblood,_ for shame.

The tightness in his chest was only increasing, and his breathing was still ragged and he struggled to even to do so.

He wished her _dead_.

He said the world was better off without her.

It was an unforgivable statement. He was surprised that Lacie had even let him sit down at the Gryffindor table after saying what he had, and he hated himself some more for even thinking it and allowing people to think that it was true. He remembered that moment in the Manor, where his father's rage had scared Hermione and Draco witless, and it was a fear that Draco had been happy to share with someone, even if she was of lower birth. No, NO. She was not of lower birth, but she was, she was…

The torment of what he had grew up to believe against what he wanted to desperately to believe swirled around in his head. His wand was grasped tightly in his hand, as if letting go would stop his ability to breathe. He felt a sharp pain in his left forearm and this distracted him from his thoughts. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal a small but deep cut. Blood billowed out and trickled down his arm before dripping on his robes. He rubbed at it with the sleeve from his other arm, but blood continued to ooze.

Horrified, he stood up and his wand slipped out of his hand, hitting the stone floor with a loud clatter. He stared at the cut in his arm, and felt a stinging sensation. He continued to rub, trying to ebb some of the blood.

He noticed after a while of rubbing at his cut that his breathing had evened and his throat was not so constricted anymore.

He was still shocked at what he had done, at what his magic had done to him.

But, it made it easier to breathe and be able to conduct himself, and readjust the mask that he was so used to wearing. All that inner turmoil was gone. He felt completely emotionless. Finding a rag and performing a simple cleaning charm, he wrapped it around his arm to stop the flow of blood. It would have to do before he could properly clean himself up. It felt uncomfortable, and another rush of shame flowed through him.

As he left the broom closet, a voice permeated the corridor urging all students to return to their respective Common Rooms, and he meandered through the corridors before he found the gaggle of second-year Slytherins sullenly walking from Herbology to the Dungeons. He quietly joined the back of the line, where Theo noticed him.

"Where have you been?"

Draco shrugged and told him that he had been in the bathroom, and that he ate something funny at the Gryffindor Table. It was a reasonable enough lie, and Theo, despite being able to see through most of Draco's lies, seemed to believe him.

"So our dear friend, the Heir of Slytherin has allegedly left another enlightening message," Theo informed him.

"How do you know?"

"I have my sources, but, listen: _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_ , isn't that just morbid? I think Slytherins are all inherently histrionic because would certainly explain Pansy and you, amongst others."

Draco did not care for Theo's comments about how Draco flounced at every opportunity, but focused on the message that the Heir had left behind.

"Who was taken?" He could not mask the worry in his voice.

Sensing Draco's anxiety, Theo smiled and patted Draco on the arm. Draco flinched away for a moment, a movement that confused Theo, but he knew better than to ask. "It was not Lacie, I heard some people speculate it was the Weasley girl."

Draco did, however, manage to mask his relief that his sister had not irked the Heir in some manner and had gotten herself in trouble. He was not exactly glad that the Weasley girl had been kidnapped though, but again, he managed to conceal that fact as he forced a smirk on his face.

"I guess the blood traitors are next then."

x-x-x-x-x

Ron had felt fear before. He felt fear the previous year, that moment when the Queen headed towards his Knight, and raised her stone staff towards him and plunged into his stone horse. He felt fear when he crashed into the Whomping Willow, angry branches piercing glass and metal as if it was butter, other branches smashing and hurtling his father's Ford Anglia as if it were a Quaffle. He felt fear a few nights ago, confronting one of the worst fears of his life, the awful eight-legged creatures that tormented his childhood, his nightmares, and his everyday waking life. However, all those fears, everything was trivial to the fear that he felt in his heart when he overheard that Ginny was the girl in the Chamber, destined to spend eternity in a damp, dark place that existed in Hogwarts with a murderous snake for company. Sweet, sweet Ginny, who had only arrived at Hogwarts nine months prior, and had been so excited to come was cruelly snatched by the Heir of Slytherin, and the fear that he would never see his baby sister again, made him beyond fearful, it made him feel sick.

"We will try everything in our power to find her," McGonagall had said, but it felt an empty promise, as if, she had said it to make Ron and his brothers feel slightly better. It didn't. That was because when he had overheard with Harry that Ginny had been taken, it was only the sentence afterwards where the Professor stated she had no idea where to start looking for the girl, she had sent the halfwit Lockhart to go on the wild goose chase to look for her. He wanted to cry, but there was a lump in his throat that seemed to block any real tears from forming. Harry had sat beside him all day, equally as forlorn. He had liked Ginny too.

Ron stared out the window, unable to look at the faces of his fellow classmates, unable to even talk to them. They respected his unwillingness to talk and kept their distance. He watched as the sun set, casting an ominous red glow into Gryffindor Tower.

"Ron, Harry!" Ron turned at the sound of his name. He noticed Fred and George move away, shaking their heads as they went away.

Ron stood up as Lacie approached them, and there was a flush to her face as if she had been running. Where from, Ron didn't care. Suddenly, the anger he had bottled up under the surface of fear rose above the surface.

"And where have _you_ been? Gloating to your brother about how one of the parasitic Weasleys is about to die?" Ron ignored the stares of everyone in the Common Room.

"Ron -…" Harry started.

"That's not fair," Lacie said as she reddened in front of him, "I actually like your sister, I think she is a nice person."

She wasn't lying, and Lacie had given her honest opinion, for once. Ron suddenly felt abashed, his anger dissipating in front of him. He realised he hadn't been fair, that much was true. There was no evidence whatsoever that Lacie did not like his sister, since most of her contempt had been aimed towards him. Ron covered his face with his hands, trying not to let the tears flow, letting the emotions tide over him, so that they did not consume him. If Lacie could conceal her feelings on a daily basis, then Ron sure as Merlin could do it as well.

"Where have you been, though? Everyone has had to be cooped up in the Common Room since they made the announcement that everyone was getting sent home tomorrow…" Harry said.

"Well, I was taking advantage of the fact that all the teachers are either trying to find Ginny, or making arrangements for tomorrow and that Percy was distracted with, everything else," Lacie said quickly and quietly, herding him and Harry into a corner of the Common Room where people couldn't overhear them. "So I went to the library before wandering around the castle a little."

"Why?"

"Does it not bother you that there's a huge snake slivering around Hogwarts and no one noticed at all?" Lacie asked, "So I was wondering how the snake could get around undetected but Harry would still hear it in the walls."

"And…?" Ron asked.

"Pipes. The basilisk is using the pipes to get around."

Ron felt disgusted for a moment, had he been drinking basilisk slime all year?

"Not the time," Lacie said, as if reading his mind. "So I thought, pipes, body of a girl in a bathroom…"

"The entrance of the Chamber of Secrets is in a bathroom," Harry said, getting there before Ron did.

"Not just any bathroom," Lacie said with a small smile. "What is the only bathroom in Hogwarts that happens to be haunted by a ghost?"

Ron sighed as he closed his eyes. Would he be able to ever spend time this year outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? Judging by the looks on Harry and Lacie's face, it seemed that he was headed towards that very bathroom.

As they were leaving, Ron stopped before Harry opened the portrait hole.

"Wait," he called.

They turned around to face him.

"I think we should tell Lockhart about this."

To his surprise, Harry and Lacie agreed simultaneously.

x-x-x-x-x

After Lacie heard Myrtle's story, she desperately wanted to empty her stomach into the nearest toilet. Fortunately, they were in a bathroom. Unfortunately, they were also in the same bathroom where Myrtle had walked out of a cubicle, simply glanced at a pair of basilisk's eyes and was dead before she even could process what she was seeing. There was nothing about what Lacie was going to do next that she could see herself potentially surviving, but she blocked out those fears. There was nothing in her training that was pertinent to facing a basilisk, because there was no other outcome when it came to facing a murderous stare. You faced it, and then you die. It did not need to torture you, or break you psychologically. You simply die. That fact did not deter her. At least she was going to go down in the company of friends.

"Over there."

Lacie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Myrtle's voice, she looked up at the ghostly figure, whose arm was pointing in the direction of the sinks. Lacie followed Harry as he walked towards the sink in question, and watched as he turned the handle of the tap.

"That tap doesn't work," Lacie said as she remembered. "I tried to wash my hands before with it."

"It never has," Myrtle said, and the tone of her voice had an added spooky melodrama to it.

Lacie watched as Harry furiously tried to turn it on, before stopping what he was doing to stare at the tap itself. He looked at her, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight shining through the single window in the bathroom.

"This is it."

"That's it?" Lacie questioned.

"I think so," Harry said, he reached over to Lacie and pulled gently her towards the sink by her hand and pointed at the side of the tap with his free one. "There's a small carving on the side, see? Er... it's small but it's there."

Lacie ignored her reddening cheeks as she squinted as she tried to focus her eyesight on the side of the tap, and indeed, there were a few scratches on the side, resembling a snake of some sort. She slipped her hands out of Harry's grasp. He did not even notice.

"I just thought, the mighty Founder of Hogwarts that Slytherin was, that he would hide the Entrance to the fabled Chamber of Secrets somewhere other than a girls' bathroom," Lacie mused.

Ron snickered as he walked towards Harry and Lacie. "Did you expect a trapdoor under a pit of snakes? Wouldn't that go against the design brief of 'top secret'?"

Lacie rolled her eyes. For once, Ronald Weasley had a point.

"I-I see that you-you've got this all u-under con-control," a timid voice by the bathroom door floated towards them.

Lacie, Ron and Harry raised their wands instantaneously.

"Not so fast," Harry said, glaring at Lockhart. Ron moved towards Lockhart, his wand not wavering from its target. Lacie was secretly enjoying having Lockhart at wandpoint. She only wished that he gave her an excuse to hex him, after he had tempted her for so long. Ron dragged a reluctant Lockhart towards the sinks.

"You know what-what the monster inside is, you-you know where the Entrance is, what-what-what do you still need me-me-me for?" Lockhart could not stop himself from stammering from a fear that three second-years did not possess. _Coward_ , Lacie thought, throwing emphasis on how disdainful that word was to her in her mind. Three children were willing to risk their lives, and one vain man could not even think about moving towards a group of sinks. _Pathetic, Hermione admired a complete and utter fraud._

"Obviously because we are not allowed to do anything without a teacher present," Lacie said acidly, "Ever since Hermione was Petrified, no one has been able to do anything without the presence of a teacher, or did you forget that whilst you were stuffing your suitcases with your flamboyant robes?"

"We just thought that after battling the likes of banshees and werewolves, what is a basilisk to you?" Harry furthered, "You were at the top of our list."

"Imagine the book that you could write on this one, _Battling with Basilisks_ , if that isn't _Daily Prophet_ best-seller material, I don't know what is," Ron said.

It was that moment, where Lockhart seemed to break.

"I'm a fake! I didn't save villages, or travel with a werewolf, I didn't do any of it, I just wrote that I did and people believed me!"

Lacie felt both self-satisfied that she had not fallen for his overtly brass charisma, nor had she thought he amounted to much but she felt slightly disheartened. He was not some magical prodigy, or an expert at battling monsters, and she did not see what help he would be down in the Chamber of Secrets aside be another liability in their half-baked quest. Nothing was going to plan, aside from the fact that they had a strong suspicion where the Chamber was, and even then, it still was to be proved that the sink that Harry had pointed at was indeed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Okay," Harry said after a moment, and lowered his wand. "You didn't save the people that you said you did, but, you can save someone _now_. If we go down to the Chamber, Ginny might be alive and we can save her. If we don't, she's definitely dead, so, we have to do it… just so we can at least try to can save her."

Lockhart's reluctance still lingered in the air. Lacie knew that he would not go into the Chamber willingly, no matter how many grand speeches of motivation that Harry made. It seemed as if Harry knew this too and ignored whatever answer Lockhart was about to give. He stared at the sink, almost as if he willed it to open to the Chamber of Secrets, it would be enough.

"Maybe you have to speak in Parseltongue? After all, that was Slytherins' special ability," Lacie offered.

"I've never really tried it without a snake," Harry said, his confidence wavering before he said, "Open."

Lacie and Ron shook their heads, as that had been determinedly and unmistakeably, English.

Harry stared at the tap, narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. The word that came out of his mouth was definitely not English. It was a snarl, hiss and snap all in one. Lacie had never witnessed Harry speak Parseltongue before, and she would gladly go without ever hearing it again. He had sounded as if he was about to attack something, maybe even her, and she knew how terrifying it must have been that first time. That first time where everyone else witnessed a longer interlude of what she was experiencing now.

But Harry was not evil. He was too pure hearted, too capable of love to ever be evil.

That was probably why it was so disconcerting to hear him speak the harsh language of the snakes.

Whatever Harry had said worked, too, as the sinks seemed to move about, spreading out from their original position. The sink that had never worked sank into the ground, and it revealed that the sinks had all hid a large pipe underneath it.

Ron gulped before prodding Lacie and saying, "Ladies first."

Lacie would rather spend the day scrubbing the Dungeon floors than go alone first, and she made it very clear in a rather unladylike gesture. Ron whistled, and Harry looked impressed that the finger gesture was even in Lacie's arsenal of insults. _Ever the tone of surprise, boys._

"Fine, don't go first, but I'm not doing it alone," Ron said.

"How about…?" Lacie asked, leaving the end of her sentence open as she looked at Lockhart.

"No….No…"

The threat of three almost teenagers with their wand raised at him seemed to silence him and he moved towards the gaping pipe.

"You all ought to reconsider," Lockhart said as a final plea. Their silence was enough to tell him that they were not going to reconsider their Professor to take the first leap. Lockhart grumbled as he sat down, swung his legs into the hole and pushed off, sliding into the abyss. They heard as he yelped and shrieked on the way down until there was no more. The three looked at each as if daring the other two to go next.

"I'll go next, we're just wasting time otherwise," Harry said, sitting down and before Lacie could mutter a simple 'be safe' he had slid away. Lacie, channelling Harry's courage, followed suit. She took a few moments to brave herself before she slid into the darkness.

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _Chapter summary: Stressing over third-year electives and exams. Draco tells Lacie that the Mandrakes have matured. Ginny gets kidnapped. Going into the Chamber of Secrets. Pretty standard really._

 _If you have any problems with this chapter, please feel free to PM me and I'll happily answer any questions you may have._

 _That being said CoS time means nearly the end of this story, I misnamed my chapters by accident, and thought I had 18 chapters, but I actually have 19 - so 3 more chapters and this tale is done. I am working on the AU of POA at the moment, and yeah. It's toughhhhh._

 _CSxo._


	21. O, Vanity! O, Misery

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen: O, Vanity! O, Misery**

* * *

The heart will cease to beat;  
For all things must die.  
All things must die.

Alfred Lord Tennyson from _All Things Will Die._

* * *

It was _disgusting_. Lacie tried not to scream as she slid down, feeling damp and sticky and slippery all in one, but as she wondered whose screams were echoing off the edges of the pipe, she came to the realisation that it was her.

And she could not stop.

She screamed past the other openings, pipes that would take her to another part of the castle, pipes that meandered into bathrooms, and kitchens and living spaces. Pipes that a certain murderous snake had probably taken. It was not long however, when the pipes began to level slightly and she had reached her destination.

Quickly after her was Ron, who grimaced at her whilst clutching his ears as he clambered out of the pipe.

"Did you really have to scream all the way down?" he asked.

"Sorry," Lacie said, the word slipping from her lips before she even knew what she was doing. She had apologised, the act made her stomach turn. She had not only broken her unapologetic temperament, she had done it with a Weasley no doubt. If she had still cared for her father's opinions, she would have crawled up the pipe and begged the family ancestors for forgiveness. Ron looked horrified, and lowered his hands from his ears.

"Did you really just apologise?" Ron asked.

"Not important," Lacie snapped, she was never going to live this moment down. She looked down at her uniform, and it was slimy with what had grown on the insides of the main pipe. Some of her nails had dirt under them already, and her white blouse could not be saved, no matter how many spells you attacked with it. She stomped deeper into the cavern where they had ended up, trying to find Harry. She whimpered quietly at the cracking under her feet and looked down. She was crushing skeletons of small animals with every step she took.

This place was ghastly.

"It is important," Ron said, "A Malfoy just apologised to a Weasley… I can feel my family honour slowly restoring."

Lacie ignored him, and wandered further in.

"Harry?" she called out, it was not like Harry to wander when his friends were only a few steps behind. There was a muffled response to an even darker part of the cavern to her right. She moved towards it, but not before she cast _Lumos_. Ron, his attention no longer on what Lacie had said before, looked concerned for their friend and followed her. He kept his wand raised in a defensive position. She called out for her friend as they passed an arch.

"Don't! It's a -…"

Lacie moved quickly towards Harry's panicked voice and she felt something move quickly behind her and a grunt from Ron made her move even further forwards. In the light of her wand, Ron had keeled over and Lockhart looked almost feral. His golden locks were doused with the slime that covered all of them, and it looked matted. His robes were equally as ruined, and there was dirt all over the man. If the was a person who felt more out of place than Lacie, then it was most likely Lockhart.

Without thinking, she pointed her wand at Lockhart and half-screamed, "Expelliarmus!"

The wand that in his hand flew out of his hand in a flash of red light, and she ran towards where it had fallen. She grabbed it, ignoring that it was lying in a pile of skeletons. She trained her wand on Lockhart, who had taken to holding Ron in a headlock. He had also managed to procure Ron's wand as she had gone to retrieve Harry's. She wanted to chastise herself for being so linear, a criticism that her mother had always warned her about during her training.

 _Think before you act. Think of it like a chess game, and always think three steps forward. Never be afraid. That is how they will break you._

She knew Ron would not have made the same mistake, not that she would admit it to him.

"Lower your wand, girl," Lockhart hissed.

"Are you _insane_?" Lacie asked incredulously, her wand was firmly pointed at Lockhart. She resisted the urge to raise the other wand as well, but she knew what her mother would also say. _Never be cocky in a duel._

"No, but after I'm finished with you, that is what I'll tell them, that all three of you went careering, without a plan into the Chamber of Secrets and the sight of the dead Weasley girl drove you all insane."

"How do you plan on doing that? You are still outnumbered!"

Lockhart's award winning smile glistened in what little light was available. "The same way I convinced those witches and wizards to lose their minds, and forget what they had done. Do you _really_ think that all I did was make up little stories of how I saved villages? I stole their achievements, which is what I'm going to do with you three."

"Then you're going to write another best-seller, based on what? Lies? Your so-called horrific journey into the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Those witches and wizards were old and would have looked terrible on a book cover," Lockhart declared, "So I did the one thing I was talented at and removed their memories before I told their stories. I won't tell you again, girl, _LOWER YOUR WAND_."

"Do… it!" Ron gasped as his face was getting redder and redder in Lockhart's hold. Lockhart menacingly tightened his grip around Ron's neck, and Lacie relented. She lowered her wand against her better judgment. Lockhart kept Ron's wand trained on her, but he let Ron go, shoving the boy away from him as if he was rubbish. Ron fell to the ground and hoarsely began clamouring for air. Lacie kept her gaze trained on Lockhart.

"Good. Don't worry, I promise to be kind. I'll even let you remember how to dance, for you my dear, are such a lovely dancer," Lockhart said, his grip on Ron's wand growing tighter. " _Oblivate._ "

The force of the spell knocked Lacie and Lockhart back and off their feet. The cavern exploded, and Lacie scrambled away from the collapsing walls and ceiling. The dust of it all choking her as she struggled to breathe. For a long time, Lacie could not hear anything that was not rocks smashing into each other, and the sound of her own heart beating.

After a moment, all seemed to quieten. She struggled as she tried to stand up. After conducting herself for a moment, she managed to do so, even though her legs felt like pure jelly.

 _Is this it? Have I completely lost my mind?_

At the thought of that, she realised that the spell had completely backfired. She would not be questioning the soundness of her mind had she been truly hit by Lockhart. She cast a quick light-giving spell and found Harry, who had been bound and gagged.

" _Diffindo_ ," Lacie cast quickly as she stumbled across the fallen rock towards him. The ropes sliced haphazardly and Harry struggled free. He wrestled with the rope that was around his mouth. Once free, he called Lockhart such an inflammatory name that Lacie blushed. She handed Harry back his wand, to which he thanked her.

"I actually think you could have stared him down, Lace, if he didn't have Ron," Harry said. "That was also a really good Disarming Charm as well."

"Well, we should save that topic for later," Lacie said as she walked up to the wall of rocks that now separated them from Ron and Lockhart. "Ron? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, but this idiot isn't though!"

Harry and Lacie looked at each other in the dim glow of wand light.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked tentatively.

"The spell completely backfired, he's lost his mind. He's asking me where the nearest dance is being held too."

Lacie's mouth twisted into a bitter smile at the notion that the added cruelty Lockhart wanted to add to her memory loss had also backfired upon him. Although her mother would chastise her for being so pleased for it, as gloating on the unfortunate was not proper conduct for a lady, but she was so utterly glad that her heart almost sang. She did not have time to celebrate that her mind was safe, for now, as there were more pressing matters.

"Is there any space in this wall to get through?" Harry asked.

There was noise that suggested that on the other side Ron was scrambling around trying to get through. After a moment, Ron told them that there was no such space, and it would be better for him to stay behind and try and move the rubble. Lacie confirmed that it would be a better idea and Harry and she would trudge on.

"Bring her back safe, won't you?" Ron asked, his voice was barely audible. "Even if she-she…"

"We know," Lacie said. She walked further into the chamber with Harry following closely after. The light cast by their wands was barely enough to see the end of the corridor.

They noticed at the same time that only a few yards ahead lay something green and scaly.

"Close your eyes!" Harry exclaimed, and Lacie did as she was told and grabbed onto what she thought was Harry's arm in fear. They stood in the silence of the tunnel, and the only thing they could hear was the irregular dripping of something onto stone. There was no hissing or any raspy breathing noises a snake would otherwise make. Lacie carefully opened her eyes, and dropped the hand that was clinging onto Harry. Harry also opened his eyes when he noticed that Lacie was not holding onto him anymore and looked towards the green thing they had thought was the basilisk.

"It's just skin," Harry noted. Lacie raised her wand to see further down. Lining the small tunnel was this skin, a bright green that looked as if merely brushing your hand against it would poison you. If Lacie were not so scared of the thing that had shed it, she would have marvelled at its impressiveness. They looked at each other and decided mutually to follow the snake's skin, hoping that was the best place for them to find Ginny.

Along with the basilisk, of course, as well as the Heir of Slytherin whose reign of terror on Hogwarts was ending that night.

They followed the skin in silence, the only sounds were the crumbling of bones underfoot. At the end of the trail that was marked out with snakeskin, there was a solid wall. Lacie inspected it in her wand light before turning back to Harry.

"I think you need to open this door with Parseltongue as well," Lacie said, glancing back at the wall, which was an elaborate carving of a pit of snakes. Lacie could see every detail in every scale, every fang. Even the look in the snake's beady stone eye looked like it was about to attack her if she did not move further away from it. The same noise that Harry had made in Myrtle's bathroom came out of his mouth, as Harry managed to speak his second language on the first try. The loud sound of stones scraping each other erupted in the tunnel, and the noise reverberated off each stone surface that was around them. The cacophony of stone snakes that were mid-attack, straightened out and they slithered away to reveal a cavernous chamber.

They stepped into it at the same time.

If Lacie had more time, she would have gone to each individual column and examined it, as if she was in a museum, and gasped in wonderment as how intricate the carvings were. She may have even tried to recall details so that if she could find a suitable spell book, find the right spell to carve something similar (and smaller). If Lacie had more time, she would have taken in her surroundings in her own time, and looked at the wall sconces that cast a dim green glow into the chamber. Instead, time was of the essence, and Harry had already sprinted towards the end of the chamber. She followed him and at the end of it was Ginny Weasley, paler than Lacie had ever seen her before. Ginny lay at the base of a statue, which again, if Lacie had more time would have taken great pleasure in viewing.

It was impressive, the craftsmanship that Slytherin had gone into creating a replica of himself.

She ran to a kneeling Harry Potter, who was grasping both of Ginny's shoulders and shaking her gently whilst urging her to wake. As much as she wanted to marvel at everything in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry seemed too distraught to ignore.

"Harry."

"She's not dead, she can't be… oh, Ginny, please, please wake up."

Lacie knelt beside him and touched his arm. He let go of Ginny and looked at Lacie with wet, green eyes. She took a deep breath, "Let me try something."

He nodded furiously, and took his glasses off his face. If he was confused as to what she was doing, he did not ask for clarification. She wiped the glasses on whatever part of her robes she thought may be clean and hovered them close to Ginny's nose. For a few minutes, Lacie watched, and in what felt like eternity, part of the glass clouded over. Lacie squeaked.

"What?"

Lacie returned Harry's glasses to his face, and said with a relief, "She's not dead."

Another voice, across the chamber repeated Lacie's words, and echoed off the stone walls. They both froze at the sound of the deeper voice. Slowly, they both turned around and they saw a tall, pale figure. Lacie also noted that he was quite handsome, but that was irrelevant. What was relevant was that she had never seen this boy before, and yet he was wearing pristine robes that were embossed with the Slytherin badge. Harry was the first to stand up, and there was something in his demeanour that suggested that this person was not entirely a stranger to him.

"It's… you."

Lacie stood up, an action that Harry seemed to see in the corner of his eye, and he threw a protective arm behind him. Lacie wondered who this person was, and how Harry came to recognise him. As Lacie continued to look at the boy, she wondered why the taller boy seemed to look like a projection, not quite a ghost but not quite a human being. _Who is he?_

"She won't wake either," the boy said, "Not whilst I exist, Ginny's life force is linked to mine."

"Who are you?" Lacie asked tentatively. Harry turned to face her with a pained expression for a moment before turning back to the boy.

It was the first time that the boy had noticed Lacie in the chamber. The way that he did look at her, however, made Lacie feel as if she had never been noticed by another person before. He smirked at her as he glided across the stone floors around Harry's protective arm and regarded her with dark, hypnotising eyes.

"You must be Lacerta Malfoy," he said, she did not want to be entranced by his voice but she found herself gazing at his lips. "I must thank you, you have been so helpful to me this year."

The spell that the boy had cast on her, suddenly broke and Lacie was suddenly aware that the boy standing next to her was not someone to be trusted, and that she needed to get as far away as possible with Harry and Ginny in tow. She took a step back towards Ginny's immobile body. She did not want to know who he was, and she did not want to know why he knew her name, and what her part had been in his grand plan, whatever that may have been.

"How?" Harry asked, his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

The boy turned back to Harry, not before Lacie saw a wide grin, "Mostly because of you."

"Me?"

"I fed on Ginny's secrets, her fears and her _pain_. She wrote and wrote, about being poor and being in the shadow of her brothers, and about you, Harry Potter, and how _jealous_ she was of your female friends, and how your affections were being frittered on the likes of Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy here."

"You encouraged her," Lacie said flatly, as she realised why Ginny had been so taciturn with her. "You made her angry at us, instead of seeing what Hermione and I really are, only just friends with Harry."

The boy's mouth twisted again, and he explained in great detail about how he had, indeed, exacerbated the raw subject, as it made it easier for him to get into her mind. He revelled in her pain, her fears and how he made her feel as if she was not good enough for Harry, before turning around and telling her that she was too good for him. He made her believe that that Lacie and Hermione were purposefully taking away the object of her affection, and that his natural charm had done the rest. He explained that he made Ginny angry with them too, her rage spilling over so much that the last time he had complete taken possession of her that she had tracked down Hermione to kill. Yes, it had been Ginny that had done everything. She had vandalised the school in blood and attacked all of the students, as he had ravaged her mind and taken all but her sanity.

"Except, that stupid Mudblood knew what was coming, and protected herself with that silly little mirror," the boy spat bitterly.

"I guess she wasn't so stupid after all," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Mudblood and everything."

"I underestimated her _intelligence_ , but that does not mean she's less of a disgusting leech on Wizarding society," the boy replied, "What I've achieved this year will affect years to come, do you really think they will let anymore filthy Muggles into the school after this year? I'll be here to direct the basilisk to attack, year after year."

"Not if we get Ginny to the Hospital - …"

"Do you really think the fools in the school will be able to _heal_ her? Whilst we've been talking, I've been distracting you and Ginny has gotten weaker and weaker, I doubt you'll be able to bring more than a corpse out of this Chamber."

Lacie saw determinedness in Harry's eyes that suggested that he was going to at least try. Lacie was beside him, and waited only for his instruction. Harry walked around the boy, and headed towards Ginny, and Lacie followed suit.

"We're taking her - …"

"You are not going anywhere, because I have not finished."

Harry ignored him, and proceeded to try and lift Ginny. Lacie helped, and with the two of them, Ginny's dead weight did not seem a challenge. They struggled as Ginny's shoes dragged against the floor. Suddenly Lacie's body froze, and Ginny's arm slipped from around her neck. Harry nearly collapsed without Lacie's aid and carrying Ginny's full weight. He strained as he turned to face Lacie, whose limbs had completely frozen.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed, so snakelike that it was as if he was speaking Parseltongue again.

"Harry? What is happening to me?" Lacie asked in a small voice. Her arms slowly moved so that they were in front of her around waist height, and her fingers were brought together so they slightly touched. Her feet moved so that they were in a proper ballet position, and she pirouetted not of her own accord. She stopped for a moment, regained her position before spinning again, but she was not doing it willingly.

 _What is happening? Who is doing this to me?_

"Harry?"

She could not stop pirouetting, she span and span and she was slowly speeding up. The chamber whizzed before her eyes as she span and she could slowly feel the insides of her stomach complain with the dizzying movement. Her arms and legs began to ache with the pain of the strenuous and repetitive activity, and a nauseous feeling rose up her throat.

"HARRY!"

She could barely make out his figure, she was pirouetting so fast now, and she could not hear his reply. Suddenly, she stopped and she toppled over, and crashed to the ground. Her head mercifully landed on her arm and not the cold floor. She gasped for air, not realising the precise toll that being animated against her will had taken. Her splutters as she tried to slow her racing echoed in the chamber, but they were not so loud that she could not hear what was happening.

"Now that I have your attention, Potter, I thought we could talk."

* * *

 _A/N: This chapter was the reason why I rewrote large chunks of this story because in the first draft, Lacie was stuck with Ron and there was going to be a lot of Lacie/Ron bashing whilst they dealt with Lockhart but that was boring so I wrote this version which needed the story to be rewritten in parts for it to work cohesively. Also, as I had began writing the third story and plotting out what happens, Lacie needed to be in the Chamber of Secrets, some of you might hate the idea but personally, I'm a massive fan of it._

 _Also a massive fan of the Ilvermorny story._

 _CSxo._


	22. Number of my Knights

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling and Robert Burns  
**

 **CHAPTER WARNING  
** **The narrative of this chapter contains descriptive detail relating to torture of a character, it's not nice and I understand if you may not want to read it. I'll leave a brief summary of what occurs in this chapter down in the A/N below.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen: Number of my Knights**

* * *

 _I must not dwell on that defeat of fame._  
 _Let the world be; that is but of the world._  
 _What else? what hope? I think there was a hope._

Alfred Lord Tennyson from Guinevere

* * *

Lacie did not know how long she lay on the ground, her legs feeling numb and the Chamber still not righting itself, but she did not want to draw attention to herself. She tuned in and out of a conversation between the boy – whose name she had not been told, although she had a strong suspicion it was T. M. Riddle – and Harry. She tried to force the bile rising in her mouth back down and kept her eyes closed so that the Chamber would stop spinning quicker.

By closing her eyes, her other senses heightened and she could hear the raspy tones of Parseltongue, as if Harry was next to her. She realised a few moments later that it had not been Harry, this Parseltongue had been more confident and controlled, and she wondered who else was a Parseltongue.

"Lacie, come on!" Someone was tugging at her, and then pushing her to move. Lacie kept her eyes closed and moaned. She was comfortable on the floor, and she did not want to move. "Lacie, come on! The basilisk is on its way!"

Lacie's eyes shot open, and she noticed that the chamber was not spinning anymore, and she could see Harry's worried expression right in front of her. He tugged on her again, urging her to move. Lacie thought about what he had just said, _the basilisk is on its way…_

Lacie scrambled to her feet as she followed Harry, and noticed Ginny was sprawled from where Harry had placed her. She ran towards the girls' prone body, and it was as if Harry could read her mind because he was right next to her and they were soon moving her again.

"We don't have time to get her out yet, but if we hide her behind this pillar we may be able to get some help first and then get her," Harry said. Lacie nodded, agreeing with whatever plans Harry was going to come up with, so long as it kept her alive. As they moved behind the pillar, Lacie heard a small thud. She froze, realising that the basilisk was slithering closer and closer. She shut her eyes tightly, desperate not to look at it. She subconsciously grabbed Harry's hand, and she thought she imagined him squeezing her hand back.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, so quietly that Lacie thought that she imagined it. She was more focused on the sounds of scales upon stone as the noise of a rather large snake got closer and closer, a sharp thwacking noise hitting the stone floor every so often. Harry's hand tightened in hers, but she was too distracted by the sudden sound of squawking and flapping and the sounds of another thing hissing and spitting.

"What is that?" Lacie asked as quietly as she could.

"I think it's Fawkes."

"What?"

"I'm going to look."

"No!"

Lacie felt Harry's hand slip out of her hand, but she was frozen to the spot. She wondered for a moment what characteristics of a Gryffindor she actually possessed, as she was neither brave nor courageous. Harry was both of those things, and he had spent a long time questioning if he was truly a Gryffindor. Lacie wondered what it was about her that placed her in Gryffindor instead of the House her family was known for.

"Lace? It's safe now, Fawkes blinded the basilisk," Harry said quietly.

Lacie opened her eyes, and raised an eyebrow at Harry before whispering, "There is still the matter of the basilisk, Harry. It cannot be _that_ safe."

"I know it's physically impossible, but can you manage to save your wisecracks until we leave the Chamber?"

Lacie smirked before conceding. "Who is Fawkes?"

Harry looked at her as if she had gone mad for a moment before saying, as he peered around the pillar, "Dumbledore's phoenix. He must have known we were in danger, I just…"

They were interrupted as a loud hissing noise echoed off the walls, which made Lacie shudder. Harry froze before moving backwards towards the entrance to the chamber. He had gone completely white.

"What is it?"

"Don't be alarmed but the basilisk can probably still smell us, or even hear us. Riddle told it to use those senses to kill us."

Lacie did not reply as she heard the sounds of snakeskin scraping on the stone floor once again, and realised that she would have probably preferred to die by staring at the basilisk, Myrtle had made it seem so peaceful. Now, she was faced with the delightful possibility of being eaten alive or being crushed to death.

 _What a pleasant way to die._

Lacie did not know what Harry was intending to do, but he was not doing anything. She did not want to shout at him in case the basilisk found them sooner and crashed through the pillar that she was hiding behind. She could hear it get closer and closer, and could not bear to dare to look on the other side of the pillar, in case it could smell her fear. Harry had inched towards the next pillar, and was watching the basilisk carefully.

Lacie heard it as it passed her; the horrible sound of skin on stone was merely inches away from her. It looked greener than the skin it had shed, and its ugly spikes that trailed down its body looked more intimidating on the snake than off. Lacie's heart and stomach was in her throat. She did not even dare to breathe, or gulp, or blink. She feared any movement would distract it. She heard its breathing, just barely, over the sound of her pounding heart.

In front her, Fawkes the phoenix whizzed above the basilisk and dropped the Sorting Hat in front of Harry. Harry stared at it for a moment before glancing at Lacie. Lacie shrugged ever so slightly, hoping that the imperceptible movement would not cause the basilisk to notice her. Harry put the Sorting Hat on his head and closed his eyes tightly as the basilisk neared where he was hiding.

 _What was he trying to do? Sort his way out of the Chamber?_

Now was not the time, Lacie reminded herself, to make more wisecracks. She was sure if Harry had heard her thoughts, he would have glowered at her. She was also sure that Harry knew what he was doing. Well, she hoped at least. Harry stumbled and clutched his head as he groaned. Lacie gasped loudly and nearly called out to him.

She realised, too late, her fatal mistake.

The basilisk turned its head and started moving towards her and a prone Ginny. She moved back, trying to hide herself but it was too late. It had heard her and locked onto her scent. She moved away from Ginny, hoping that the giant snake would not crush the girl and watched with bated breath as it glided on the floor towards her. It started snapping, and Lacie could feel its breath. Her heart began beating so loudly that she was sure it was giving away her location. She wanted to desperately to run, but even if she did the thing would catch up to her. Her best chance was to hide or get Harry to distract it. Harry did no such thing, and was still holding his head. It began to snap at her, and its poisonous fangs only missed her by centimetres. As the basilisk reared to attack her again, it made a loud hissing noise and turned its attention somewhere else.

Lacie's breaths came out haggard and short, and she slid down a wall as her wits left her for a moment.

 _Do not let them break you_ , she chanted remembering her Mother's words, _but I feel so weak, what did you do when you faced a basilisk?_

Lacie's heart was not intent on slowing down, and she wondered what had distracted the snake. She could see that it was flailing about, and blindly attacking something. Lacie gathered what remained of her weak courage and peered around a corner. Harry was facing the basilisk alone with what seemed to be an oversized sword. He was never going to be able to get near the thing if he was going to wave it about like he was casting a spell. Lacie watched on as Harry waited for an opening and jabbed at the snake, when a hand covered her mouth and another held her throat before dragging her backwards.

Lacie spluttered as the arm around her throat was slowly choking her. Her legs were uncontrollable as they tried to resist. Lacie could feel her shoes starting to slip off her feet as he dragged her towards the front of the chamber, right by Slytherin's statue. She tried to move and wriggle out of his grip but for a memory, he was too strong. Lacie only lamented how Ginny was faring, as Riddle grew stronger.

"Ginny told me that the Malfoys were traitors to the Dark Lord, is that true?" he whispered sweetly in her ear, his hand was still clamped on her mouth, so even if he wanted an answer, he was not going to get one. He continued to drag her with a twisted smile and said, "Do you know what the Dark Lord does to the families of traitors?"

For that, he removed his hand but kept his other arm around her throat. She spluttered, her saliva dribbling out her mouth and landing awkwardly on her chin. "The D-Dark Lord k-kills them. A-All of them."

Riddle's once handsome features morphed into something darker as an evil glint appeared in his eyes. Lacie felt something prod her temple, and the slow burn of a wand tip being used offensively. Lacie screamed as Riddle cackled.

"There was a Malfoy in the seventh year when I first started Hogwarts, I think his name was Abraxas… is he still alive? Was he the traitor?"

Lacie did not answer him, instead struggling against his grip. He pressed the wand harder into her temple and Lacie screamed even louder this time, the smell of burning skin and hair was pungent in the air surrounding them. It stung her nostrils. _Do not let him break you._ Lacie continued to struggle and Riddle continued to burn her. Lacie knew that she was fighting a losing battle but he had to relent at some point. Hopefully Harry would kill the basilisk soon, so that he would stop.

"Lacie!"

Riddle retracted the wand and faced Harry, who was pointing the sword at Riddle. Riddle laughed.

"Is that how the great _Harry Potter_ fights? With swords and honour? You are as naïve as those Muggles that tried to subdue me before I killed them."

Lacie watched as Harry gulped and nodded.

"I c-can take it," Lacie wheezed, her throat was closing in on her as Riddle did not loosen his grip on her throat. "Ha-Harry j-just kill the b-basilisk."

Harry shook his head and Riddle cackled as Lacie used all of her strength to squirm against his grip. He pressed the wandtip against her head again, and Lacie screamed hoarsely, but reiterated that she could do it, that she would withstand the pain. She urged Harry to go and end it, to kill the basilisk once and for all.

Torn between saving Lacie from Riddle's grip, and ending their ordeal, Harry dithered on the spot and Lacie could see the weight of the sword tire him. Riddle dragged her backwards again, and this distracted Harry. Lacie felt her feet slip under her, and every time that she slipped, Riddle's arm choked her as she hung from his grip. She was spluttering and had no air left in her lungs to scream at the agony of being burned. Her arms were slowly going limp, and she felt one fall flaccid. The other one was still fortunately still tugging at Riddle's arm, although, she had no idea what in Merlin's name she hoped to achieve.

"Let her go!" Harry shouted, he was resolute now. Lacie had no fight left in her to argue against him, every moment that Harry was not hunting the basilisk was a moment wasted. This time, Riddle seemed to freeze up as he focused on something. Lacie started to see black spots as he flung her behind him and into a freezing pool at the bottom of Salazar's statue, as if she was rubbish.

Her hair was no longer in its perfect braid as it floated around her. Lacie gulped water, as she clamoured for air and felt her arms paddle the water in an attempt to break the surface. She could not do it, and she sank, deeper and deeper into the water, feeling the rough rocks graze her arms and hands.

 _This is how it ends._

 _At least I did not get killed in one fell swoop, it would be embarrassing to die such an easy death, I suppose._

She felt something grab her in the depths of the waters and scratch her hand. Weakly, she reached for it but it disappeared. There suddenly a tight pinch on her shoulders and she felt herself floating again. She could feel waves as water was pushed down, as if someone was flapping above her. Lacie spluttered as she was carried out of the water and placed gently on the Chamber floor beside Harry. It seemed as if the basilisk had disappeared somewhere and they were arguing whilst they were waiting for it to return. Harry dropped to her side as Lacie coughed up water. She stared at the stone tiles and could not help panting. She clutched at her bruised throat. She turned and watched as Harry was staring Riddle down with his ruby-encrusted sword in his hand. Riddle was opposite him, and stared at him but occasionally glanced somewhere behind Harry.

Lacie looked where Riddle was looking and saw that the basilisk was inching towards Harry, that was what Riddle had been waiting for, the basilisk to return again.

"Harry!" Lacie screamed hoarsely, "Behind you!"

Harry whirled around at just at the right moment, raced towards the basilisk as it reared to attack and lunged at Harry again, Lacie watched as he steeled himself and drove the sword in his hand into the roof of the snake's mouth. Boy and snake shrieked. Harry dragged the sword from the snake's mouth amidst a horrific crack and the basilisk fell still. Harry stumbled to the ground and Lacie crawled towards him. A single fang protruded from his sword arm.

"Harry, no, no…" Lacie whimpered as he pulled the fang out. She did not have the strength to stand up and run towards Harry's fallen body. She pulled herself across the stone floor, her arms were screaming in pain as did so. _I can do it_ , _I_ will _do it._

"Would you like to watch him die, or shall I spare you the sight?" Riddle taunted as he walked beside her, "Defeated by Lord Voldemort at long last."

Lacie froze for a moment before looking up at Riddle. _That was the Dark Lord?_ She shuddered at the thought and pushed it from her mind. Harry's head lolled about as he struggled to sit up. _Come on, Harry, please…_ Lacie finally reached his side and mustered as much strength as she could to pull herself up to kneel in front of him. She held his head in her hands, and steadied it. His green eyes focused on her for a moment before they slipped away. The sword that he had clasped so tightly in his hand was starting to slide to the ground as Harry's grip loosened. _Harry, please stay alive. Do not go…_ The phoenix that had heroically helped them had joined them and was perched next to Harry. The bird was even crying. Lacie shook Harry for a moment. His eyes had closed. He was not moving. Hot tears started slipping down Lacie's cheek as she continued to shake her friend, she was shaking him so hard that his glasses had started to slip off his nose.

"Get away, bird!"

Lacie had tuned out Riddle's jeers but the shrillness of his comment had her attention once more. She looked at Fawkes, whose tears had dropped on Harry's wound. In the place of where the fabric had ripped was unbroken skin. The wound had completely healed. Which meant…

"Lacie?"

Lacie looked at Harry for a moment, and his green eyes were open and no longer dull behind his ridiculous circular glasses. His cheeks had returned to their normal pallor and Lacie did not know what overcame her but she held his face and kissed him squarely on the lips. She pulled back, and went a deep shade of red. Harry looked at her in complete shock. Lacie dropped her arms, fearing any direct contact with Harry.

"How charming," Riddle crooned, "The basilisk may have killed you but -…"

Riddle had gotten distracted. The same thing caught Harry and Lacie's attention. Fawkes had dropped the diary beside them. Lacie looked at the diary to Riddle and back again.

 _Riddle came from the diary; maybe the diary is the key to destroying Riddle._

She grabbed the nearest sharp thing and stabbed the diary, dead centre, and watched as about a year's supply of ink spurted out. She did not look but she could hear Riddle scream. Harry was watching with narrowed eyes, and then there was a clatter as something dropped to the floor. Harry touched Lacie on the arm.

"It's okay, it's all over now."

Lacie dropped the fang that she had grabbed without hesitation and crawled back. Her breathing was controlled and she could not take her eyes off the diary, which had a hole burned into it.

From somewhere in the Chamber there were splutters as Ginny was revived. She was no longer tied to Riddle, now that Riddle was gone. Harry stood up and ran to where they had hidden Ginny. Lacie stayed where she was, trying to process all that had happened in the past hour.

 _It is all over now, and we are alive._

 _I am going to live to see tomorrow._

x-x-x-x-x

"Both of you stand before me, and both have doubted your place in Gryffindor House," Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles.

Lacie looked at Harry, who was staring at the floor. She turned her attention back to Dumbledore, who sat at McGonagall's desk with his long fingers intertwined atop it.

"Harry, you displayed great duty and loyalty to me, which is what called Fawkes to you, but also immense bravery. If those are not the traits of a Gryffindor, I do not know what is."

"But… I _asked_ …"

"The fact that you had the nerve to even contradict the Hat, and challenge its decision, is another quality of Gryffindor. This is another reason why you, Lacerta, ended up in Gryffindor House. Despite asking the Hat to be in Slytherin, your nerve to even ask to be there is a Gryffindor trait."

 _So if I had not asked the Hat to be in Slytherin, I would have been placed there and avoided all the commotion of first year? Not that being in Gryffindor has been an entirely awful experience._

"Harry, if you need further proof about where your place is, you need to only look at the sword that you are wielding, only a true Gryffindor could pull that out of the Hat."

Lacie peered at the sword and made out its engraving, _Godric Gryffindor_ , and knew what Dumbledore had meant. Of course with its rubies and opulence it could only be their Founders', and if Harry was not a true Gryffindor, he would not be able to pull it out of the Sorting Hat. Dumbledore had turned his gaze onto her.

"Lacerta, you are a fiercely proud person, and highly protective of those you love. You refuse to back down from a fight, and are constantly toeing the line between recklessness and bravery."

"I do not…"

"Those are also qualities of a true Gryffindor," Dumbledore ignored her protest, "There are few people who can stand here as poised as you after being tortured by Lord Voldemort, which only shows how truly courageous you are."

Lacie flinched subconsciously at the name. Harry looked at her reaction with curiosity. Lacie brushed it off, but felt a dull stinging at the side of her head. In all the excitement of going to find McGonagall, she had forgotten that Riddle – the Dark Lord – had held her head at wandpoint. The Headmaster moved from his desk to one of his many cabinets and pulled out a small vial. He soaked a handkerchief with the liquid inside it and handed the handkerchief to Lacie. Lacie took it.

"For your burn," he explained.

Lacie dabbed at where the stinging was and at first it worsened but then completely subsided.

"I would like a further word with Harry, Lacerta, can you wait outside for him?"

Lacie nodded, and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder before she left the room. She sat outside and mulled over what Dumbledore had said to her. He had not been as complimentary to her as he had been to Harry, _constantly toeing the line between recklessness and bravery_. She drew her lips up into a smirk. That seemed like an accurate representation of her, and Lacie did not care that it seemed like an insult.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She took a deep breath, traces of a smirk still on her face. It was a contented smile now. She was alive. She had faced a basilisk and had lived. She was going to live to see her best friend come out of her Petrification and see her family again. She may have only been at Hogwarts for a few months, but relief swirled around her like a blanket. The darkness that had shrouded the year was over.

Her daydream was sharply broken as there was a clatter and an angry clash between stick and stone. Lacie almost snapped her neck as she turned towards the commotion. Her father was frogmarching down the corridor with a furious expression. Dobby, the family house-elf whimpered as he followed. Sad, bulbous eyes looked at her, and Lacie felt sorry for the creature. It was no wonder he had found solace with Harry, Harry would not punish him so severely. Thoughts of feeling sorry for her house-elf were interrupted as her father grabbed her by the robes.

"What did you _do?_ " he hissed at her.

"N-Nothing!" Lacie stammered. She thought that he would have been prouder of her, considering that she had just defeated the Heir of Slytherin, survived some version of the Dark Lord, and lived to tell the tale. Her father was glaring at her, frostiness seemed to emanate from his icy-grey eyes.

"I-I-I…" Lacie spluttered, unable to get out what she wanted to say.

"Lucius!" another voice boomed beside them, "I have been expecting you."

"You have ruined everything," her father hissed before letting her go. Her father straightened his robes before following the Headmaster into McGonagall's office. Harry looked at her with an eyebrow cocked, as if questioning her.

How did Lacie ruin everything? She looked back at the closed door where her father was now speaking privately with Dumbledore. Had everything in the year been an elaborate plot to begin with?

 _It was all a little convenient._

Piece by piece, little parts of the puzzle started to fall into place. Lacie had long suspected that there was some other reason for why she was sent to Beauxbatons, and she always suspected it because she was friends with Harry. Lacie turned to face Harry again, and realised that it was never about Harry all along. _Hermione_. Her friendship with Hermione was the problem, and her father must have known that when Hermione was attacked, Lacie would stop at nothing to find the perpetrator.

 _How would he know?_

How would her father know that Hermione would be attacked, if he was merely an innocent bystander? He was somehow involved and now Lacie had blown on his house of cards, and it was collapsing around Lucius Malfoy.

"Lacie?"

" _The best-laid schemes of mice and men_ ," Lacie muttered.

"What?"

Lacie smiled and thought about her words before she said, "I think I know why Father's here."

x-x-x-x-x

"What does this mean?"

Albus looked at Molly and Arthur who had Flooed to Hogwarts immediately after hearing the predicament of their daughter. Albus then cast a glance at Ginny who was fast asleep on a recliner that Albus had conjured for her. The girl was both lucky and unlucky. She was so, so lucky to be alive, yet so unlucky that she had returned not completely undamaged. Albus turned his attention back to her parents. He had delved into her mind and found vestiges of Voldemort's possession, traces that he could not remove.

"It means that she is alive, and I need you two to focus on that fact."

"But…?"

Albus sighed and walked towards the girl, she seemed so at peace. She was unaware of the harm she had caused herself. His long robes trailed after him, and Molly and Arthur followed him towards the recliner.

"The diary was animated with dark magic, and whatever had possessed Ginny left a small fragment of itself in her mind. I cannot fully remove it without causing some lasting damage."

Molly looked horrified and raised a hand towards her open mouth. Arthur put a hand on his wife's shoulder but remained composed.

"What do we do?"

"Fortunately, the magic was only able to possess her during a period of intense rage, it is what it had fed on… Ginevra's mind is safe so long as she is calm and collected, but once she gets angry she becomes vulnerable to Lord Voldemort."

The Weasleys flinched at the name, but nodded in rapt attention.

"Is there anything we can do?" Arthur asked, looking at his daughter.

Albus kneeled next to the girl and whispered, "Is there anything you enjoy doing, that makes you forget all of your problems, my dear girl?"

"Flying," she mumbled, as if she was taking a breath. Albus smiled weakly at her sleeping figure.

"Then whenever you feel very, very angry you should control it, and go flying when you can, to forget how angry you are." Albus stood up and turned to Molly and Arthur. "As long as she has something, or some activity to channel her anger then she will be safe. Every allowance will be made to accommodate this at Hogwarts when she returns next year."

Molly nodded, her hand now falling from her mouth. Arthur's hand tightened on her shoulder. Albus returned to his desk.

"I would not treat her differently from your other children, however, just allow her to go flying when she is angry. I have planted that notion in her mind."

"And if You-Know-Who returns?"

Albus faltered, for even he could not predict the future. "If he were to return to full power, Ginevra is only susceptible to him if she allows herself to feel intense rage, but I will always monitor her and keep her in check."

"Will she ever be cured?"

"Only when Voldemort is defeated once-and-for-all, a weak part of him still exists and therefore, I cannot break the curse."

They had flinched again but nodded, and turned to their snoozing daughter. Things could have been much worse, and this was their compromise. Ginny Weasley was not the same girl they knew when she had been growing up, but she could be the echo of the girl she once was.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie shoved Harry as hard as she could as they walked towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry nearly toppled but looked at her with a wide grin.

"You freed my house-elf, you complete and utter prat!"

Harry laughed, the peals echoing off the corridor walls. "Don't act as if that wasn't funny though."

Lacie rolled her eyes. He was right, though, as the look on her father's face when he realised what Harry had done had been amusing. Lacie also found Dobby turning on his former master to protect Harry equally as so, _if only Father had not underestimated Dobby_. They carried on walking in silence as they mulled over their thoughts about the matter.

"Are we going to talk about what happened in the Chamber?" Harry asked.

Lacie looked at him, all trace of humour had gone, "Oh, that. Well, yes, thank you for saving my life. Although if you intend to face the Dark Lord every summer with your friends, I humbly hand in my resignation."

"I think we mutually saved each other's life, if you hadn't distracted the basilisk or stayed as strong as you did with Riddle, I might have died as well."

"Well, you have a knack for surviving, _Boy-Who-Lived_."

Harry chuckled humourlessly, "Again with the wisecracks."

"But thank you, again. A lesser person would have crumbled, I suppose."

"I'm glad I had you then," Harry said, before pausing as he collected his next thought, "I actually wanted to talk about what happened after Fawkes healed me."

Lacie felt heat rise to her cheeks as she recalled what Harry was talking about. She bit her lip for a moment before saying, "Harry, I was just grateful that you were alive, I was really scared for a moment that you would die in my arms, so when you said my name, I just… was glad."

"And nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

Harry sighed a deep sigh of relief. "Good, because I don't need any girl trouble, not after this year."

Lacie shoved Harry again, but this time he did not budge much.

"Potter, you would be _lucky_ if a girl like me would ever consider you to be a suitor."

Lacie thought she imagined it but she heard in almost an imperceptible whisper, "Maybe I would."

* * *

 _A/N:  
_

 _Chapter summary: Harry faces off with the basilisk, and Lacie is taken by Riddle. Lacie is thrown in a pool but is saved by Fawkes. Harry kills the basilisk, but not without causing harm to himself. Fawkes heals him and Lacie kisses him (omfgwhat). Ginny is left with the vestiges of Voldemort's possession but will be okay. Lacie is annoyed that Harry freed her elf._

 _If you have any problems with this chapter, feel free to PM me._

 _The poem that Lacie quoted is 'To a Mouse' by Robert Burns. I thought it would be apt, I suppose._

 _CSxo._


	23. Faults of His Heart and Mind

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen: Faults of His Heart and Mind  
**

* * *

 _She is coming, my own, my sweet;_  
 _Were it ever so airy a tread,_  
 _My heart would hear her and beat,_  
 _Were it earth in an earthy bed;_

Alfred Lord Tennyson From _Maud_

* * *

The celebrations lasted all day, and were to last all night.

Hermione stared at Lacie as she stood in the wide arches of the doors of the Great Hall. Lacie was chatting to the other Gryffindors, before Ron nudged her forcefully, and before Lacie could rebuke him, Hermione caught her eye. Jumping to her feet, her best friend ran towards her. Hermione did at the same time, and they collided between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, smashing into each other with such force that Hermione was sure she was going to break. Around them, an applause broke out as the best friends held each other as they cried.

"You did it!" Hermione said, sobs starting to vibrate through her body as she embraced Lacie, "You solved it!"

"We could not have done it without you," Lacie replied and Hermione could feel her friend sob equally as hard on her.

Harry and Ron joined them in their embrace, and soon all of the Gryffindor second-years had joined in, bouncing them around until a reluctant McGonagall called them to order. Hermione felt humbled that her fellow second-years were pleased for her return and roughly wiped her face with the sleeve of her robes. She sniffed even though she was beaming. They slowly started to take their seats again, and one person emerged from the thinning crowd and called out to her. Hermione looked on and froze. Lacie must have seen her reaction, and held onto Hermione's arm.

"Hermione, everything is okay," she assured. Hermione gulped and nodded. She smiled at Ginny.

Ginny approached, and Lacie did not take her hand her hand off Hermione. For that, Hermione was slightly grateful.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

Hermione opened her mouth and no sound came out. The words caught in her throat.

"Hermione, it wasn't her fault," Harry said quietly next to her. Hermione didn't notice when she had started shaking but she noticed now that she couldn't stand quite upright. Her legs were slowly turning into jelly.

"It's alright Ginny," Hermione said. The girl made to move to hug her but Hermione took a shaky step back. She held her hands up in front of her, protecting herself for a moment. She dropped her hands.

"No, not yet," Hermione said firmly. "I forgive you, let's just start from there."

Ginny's brown eyes widened, and a hurt expression seemed cross her face but she nodded in acceptance before she walked towards the Gryffindor first-years.

Hermione took a seat in the empty space left and Lacie joined her.

"It wasn't her," Ron said softly. "I know you've just came out of the Hospital Wing -…"

"I know," Hermione said, "It's just going to take some time to process that."

Ron gave her a small smile, but it was the best that Hermione could do at the moment. She wasn't ready to make amends with the girl who had revelled in tormenting her before Petrifying her, a moment that Hermione had had to relive thousands of times. Hermione resisted the urge to shudder, and was grateful that time was moving forwards again. Lacie turned to her with a smug smile on her face.

"Guess who Gryffindor House a hundred house points for exceptional bravery and is going to get an award for Special Services to the School?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, knowing Lacie was using this moment to distract her by bragging.

"Harry?"

Lacie rolled her eyes, "No, me! Well, Harry and Ron as well but _me_ , can you believe it? One minute I am at Beauxbatons and the next I am saving Hogwarts."

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice and Lacie shot him a dirty look. Lacie started to recount exactly what she had done to deserve this prestigious award. Harry shushed Lacie after seeing that conversations had paused around them so people could eavesdrop on Lacie's story.

"Dumbledore said to keep it to ourselves," Harry whispered.

"Hermione still should know," Lacie argued back.

"Maybe later," Hermione said assuring Lacie that she had all the time in the world to listen to what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets.

Lacie pursed her lips for a moment before saying, "You will _not_ believe who has a girlfriend."

Hermione laughed and listened as Lacie told her about Percy and his girlfriend (Penelope Clearwater, you know the girl that you tried to save before getting Petrified), and about how Dean had asked to study with her and how exams were only in two days, but asserted that Hermione would be top of the class, Petrified or not. That was before Dumbledore made the resounding announcement that due to the interruptions of the year, they would not be having examinations at all and everyone had naturally progressed to their next year.

"Oh _no_!" Hermione cried out, her face falling to some cheers and a round of rapturous applause. She could see out of the corner of her eye that some faces on the Ravenclaw table were equally as crestfallen. Ron, however, was grinning like a Cheshire cat and leaned over to muss up Hermione's already-wild hair.

"Only you would be upset, out of all things, about exams being cancelled," he said.

Hermione shrugged it off and looked at Harry, who seemed pensive.

"What is it, Harry?"

"In all this excitement, I forgot we had to hand in our forms for our third-year subjects tomorrow."

Hermione laughed, and it wasn't a polite laugh, it was a deep, hearty laugh that was infectious. Lacie giggled into a napkin whilst Ron had his head in his hands. He was shaking as he tried to no avail to conceal his laugh. Even Harry's mouth was turned upwards into a smile.

"But in all seriousness, what did you choose Hermione? I remember you said that you couldn't decide."

Hermione cast her mind back, and remembered that she had handed her form in the same time that Lacie had.

"Well, I just signed up for everything."

x-x-x-x-x

As there were no exams to revise for, and no Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons – Lockhart had sadly taken a teaching hiatus to discover the pleasures of tap-dancing – the four found themselves free for much of the rest of the term. Harry and Ron chose to do Divination and Care of Magical Creatures in the end, ("Thank Merlin," Lacie had said, "At least I will not have to help them with their homework anymore, I do not know how you do it Hermione."). Hermione was only glad that she was alive, and she was returning home relatively unharmed this year. Relatively.

Hermione and Lacie were sitting on some flat rocks that poked out of the Black Lake, and Hermione was soaking her feet in its cool waters. Lacie had flat-out refused to even go near the lake, but Hermione had convinced her otherwise. Lacie sat stubbornly on the rock, away from any trace of water. Harry and Ron were attempting to swim in the shallow waters in order to cool down from the summer heat. An owl flew towards them and dropped a paper, and Hermione dropped a Knut in its leather pouch before it took flight again.

Hermione glanced at the front page before saying, "Your father's been sacked."

Lacie was catching as many rays as she could and was leaning back with her arms propping her up, whilst facing the sun with her eyes closed.

"Good," she said. "Maybe Draco will stop strutting around like he owns the place."

Hermione snorted before quoting, "' _The Malfoy family still remain an important political family despite this mutual decision between Lucius Malfoy and the Board of Governors to part ways.'"_

Lacie snapped her eyes open and clicked her fingers at Hermione, Hermione handed her the paper and Lacie skimmed the article before making a disgusted sound. "Essentially, Father has a lot of money so they will write about him as an important political figure, rather than a narcissistic sociopath that tried to discredit Dumbledore for his own good to stay in his good grace. I suppose, money always prevails even in the Wizarding world."

Lacie then threw Hermione's newspaper into the lake, the paper falling apart as it floated on the dark water. Hermione protested but Lacie had returned to sunbathing.

"I already wrote to Mother about what he did."

Knowing Lacie, there would have been a lot of emphatic and colourful language in the letter that Hermione would not be surprised if she received one back with admonitions from her mother. Hermione only watched as her ruined newspaper was floating towards the reeds. As much as she wanted to retrieve them and attempt a drying spell, she knew better than to dive in the Black Lake.

"What was it like being Petrified?" Lacie asked her suddenly.

Hermione gulped. She had been dreading the question since she had woken up, and Hermione was surprised that it had taken Lacie a week to broach the subject.

Hermione really wanted to tell her what it was really like, having to relive the last moments before you were Petrified. Ginny Weasley, or Tom Riddle/You-Know-Who, had taken great delight in commanding the basilisk to taunt her, and as she ran she could hear its threatening hisses. She had relived bumping into Penelope Clearwater, over and over again, and scrabbling to get her enchanted mirror out of her pocket to make sure that the basilisk wasn't lurking around the next corner. Then she saw it, and its yellow bulbous eyes that had stared at her, and she had gotten lost in the reflection for a moment before she was running again and fearing Ginny Weasley and bumping into Penelope Clearwater. After a while, she was aware enough that she was reliving an experience and willed her body to run faster, to get her mirror out quicker or turn a different way but the outcome had never changed. Being Petrified was being trapped in the moments that you were Petrified and never going any more forwards or backwards.

Instead, Hermione smiled weakly and told Lacie that it was like falling asleep but not quite, as she could hear everything happening around her. The latter fact was true, she had heard Lacie talk to her and it was sometimes the only thing that had kept her sane when she was Petrified.

"And no, I don't think that your brother would ever be content with someone like me," Hermione said, glaring at Lacie.

Lacie huffed, her ears reddening a little, "Fine. Just so you know, Hermione Malfoy has a nice ring to it, also it would mean we were actually sisters. I would hate Pansy Parkinson to be my sister-in-law."

"You were friends once," Hermione said, "Maybe after she marries your brother you will feel differently."

"What is so bad about Draco? He does mean well, well, most of the time."

Hermione didn't respond, instead she tried changing the subject and straightened the creases on her school skirt. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your birthday, I'll probably post it to you over the summer."

Lacie eyed her shrewdly, "What is the matter?"

"Nothing."

Hermione's answer had come out too quickly and she knew it. Lacie continued to look at her, as if she was piercing into her mind for the answer.

"You know I could not care less about a late birthday present, seeing as I nearly lost my best friend. Also because you are my best friend, I know when something is the matter, so do not make me hex it out of you."

Hermione snorted and immediately faulted Lacie's logic of being happy at Hermione was safe in one breath and wishing harm on her in the next. She told her as much, but Lacie had narrowed her eyes, as if she was trying to read Hermione's mind.

"Fine, well… I don't want to tell you this, so just know you forced it out of me."

"Why would you even…? Fine, just spit it out."

All trace of wanting to sunbathe had disappeared and Hermione had Lacie's fullest attention. Hermione opened her mouth, closed it and thought carefully about what she was going to say. Lacie fidgeted and was urging her to speak by raising an eyebrow but she didn't utter a single peep.

"Mandrake solution is a powerful restorative, it can heal all kinds of dark magic."

"I am aware," Lacie replied shortly.

"Like being Petrified, or the effects of being poisoned like Doxy venom…"

"I know all of this… wait, the Mandrake restorative cured your amnesia? As in, you can remember who poisoned you?" Lacie asked, her eyes widening. "Who…?"

She paused, her mouth freezing in the shape of an 'o' before it dropped open. Hermione could almost hear the cogs working in her mind as she tried to deduce who Hermione was hinting at. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she looked back at Hermione and shook her head. "He would not."

"He would, he lured me in with the idea of wanting to be friends and offered me poisoned truffles, I was foaming at the mouth when he ran away without even calling for help. I could've died."

Hermione didn't know that it was possible, but Lacie had gone even whiter than her normal pale complexion. She stood up on the rock. Her friend was shaking with anger.

"He _lied_ to me, to my face! That odious, little, obnoxious _arsehole_."

Hermione chuckled; clearly Lacie was no stranger to colourful language these days. Lacie stomped around for a moment before returning to Hermione and saying, "I am going to kill him, slowly and over the summer."

"At least he didn't get what he really wanted in the end, thanks to you," Hermione said.

"Well, it was the least I could do," Lacie said rather unabashed, "Although I did have help from Harry and I _suppose_ , Ron."

"Well, no," Hermione said, "If you hadn't sent me the mirror as a Christmas present, I probably wouldn't have known that the basilisk was going to attack me. That thing really knows how to burn."

"I…? What…?"

Hermione got even more confused. How did Lacie not know what she had meant? Hermione pulled the small, delicate thing out of her pocket and showed it to Lacie. Lacie took it from her and looked at it, her eyebrows knitting together for a moment. She turned it and looked at the back, where the vines created the letter 'M'. Her face softened for a moment.

"That's how you saved my life, because if I didn't have that mirror, I would have stared at the basilisk and simply died. You're the reason I'm alive," Hermione explained. She didn't know how hard Lacie had hit her head down in the Chamber of Secrets but she seemed to connect things really slowly.

"Yes… of course."

"And it's why your brother would never be content with someone as contemptible as me, but at least he had the decency to pass on your Christmas present to me."

Lacie was still in a daze when she muttered, "Yes… of course."

Hermione swore she could see the smallest of smiles appear on Lacie's face as she said that.

x-x-x-x-x

Even though there were no formal examinations that did not stop the teachers from handing out pieces of parchment with progress reports for every subject and predicted mark for that year based on their work for that year. Obviously Hermione had a near perfect score across the board, and Lacie's predicted marks were not too shabby for having been there since January. Harry and Ron did not care for their predicted marks, almost predictably. In the whirlwind that was packing to go home and end-of-year celebrations, Lacie did not have much time to ponder her conversation with Hermione. It had ended quite abruptly as Harry and Ron approached, splashing as they went and the girls ran away from the drenched boys. Lacie had given the mirror back, as it was now rightfully Hermione's, and had been thinking long and hard how it had come into her possession.

Hermione had said that Lacie had given it to her, the heirloom that followed Malfoy women for generations, for Christmas. Lacie had done no such thing. She was not even in the country long enough to think about sending Hermione a Christmas present. There was only one conclusion that Lacie could come to, and she was surprised that Hermione had not even considered it.

Draco had given her the mirror of his own accord, and all the chat about wanting Hermione dead was an elaborate pretence. He was still _her_ Draco, and deep inside he wanted Hermione to be his friend. Why he had poisoned her with Doxy venom, Lacie did not know but there had to be some deep-burning reason and Lacie owed it to her brother to explain himself.

Draco, however, did not seem to want to explain himself. Lacie had tried to find her brother on their birthday but he had mysteriously disappeared and whenever she tried to pass him in the corridor she was washed away with all the Gryffindors and he with the Slytherins. She would have to wait. She would not confront him on the train home, as she had to cherish the last moments she would spend with her friends.

Lacie and Hermione watched on as Harry and Ron played chess, and watched as Ron won all of the games. It seemed that over the year, he had gotten even better at it. The games did not last as long, and Ron seemed sure of his moves and moved almost instantaneously after Harry did.

Lacie wondered what would have happened if Ron had been in the Chamber with them, would Harry have almost died or would Lacie have been tortured by Riddle? Lacie's hand subconsciously raised to the bald area on her temple where her hair that had been burnt off did not grow back. Maybe they would not have dived recklessly from one venture to another. As much as Lacie hated to admit it, Ron had a knack for planning ahead.

After Lacie got bored of watching Ron win over and over again, she started quizzing Hermione on Muggle things, to prep herself for Muggle Studies the following year.

"So will you take a train home or a car?"

"My parents will most likely not drive into central London as it's too crowded and we'll probably take the Tube home."

"Tube?"

Her friend laughed for a moment before saying, "It's like a train but underground, it's a rather common feature of modern London."

"Is it exciting? It must be ever so thrilling."

Hermione laughed again, and even Ron had turned to look at her. Their conversation seemed to be more interesting than chess. Harry looked confused by Lacie.

"It's just the Tube," Hermione said finally.

Lacie carried on picking Hermione's brain about different Muggle things that Harry sometimes contributed to. Lacie had delighted in stories of how Harry had sometimes found himself on the roof of his school whenever his cousin was chasing him. Lacie almost teared up when Harry had used wind as an excuse for being on the chimney. Harry gazed at her with a small smile. They had never spoken about the kiss in the chamber again, and it seemed as if the boy had forgotten in, often joking with Lacie. Lacie had contemplated not telling Hermione, but Hermione was her best friend. Hermione had rolled her eyes and pretended to be sick, and asked her if had really meant something more.

 _Of course not,_ Lacie had exclaimed, _Harry is only a friend, nothing more._

Soon, they were nearing King's Cross and it was finally the end of term. Lacie took a deep breath to take in the train carriage for a moment, as she was not too sure if she was to return to Beauxbatons the following September. She knew that if she had her own way, she was going to stay at Hogwarts, and Lacie almost always got her own way.

As soon as she had bid her goodbyes to her friends and pocketing Harry's number, not that she would have a use for it, she looked for a familiar blond boy in the crowd of students rushing to their parents. Lacie did not even have to look very hard as Crabbe and Goyle stuck out like a sore thumb on the platform and she knew that her brother could not be too far away. Draco spotted her, said something to his friends before walking briskly away.

"Draco, I have a bone to pick with you," Lacie catching up to her brother before they found their parents. She grabbed Draco by the robes and dragged him to a quieter part of the platform. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Could this not have waited until we had returned home?"

"No, this could not." Lacie bit her lip, not knowing exactly where to start. Draco's bored expression was enough to push her to dive into the deep end. "I know it was you who poisoned Hermione with Doxy venom."

"I-… Doxy venom causes amnesia, did that _Muggleborn_ fill your head with complete and utter lies to make you despise me all summer?"

"That _Muggleborn_ is my best friend, and did you know that Mandrake Solution is a powerful restorative? Did you know that she recalls _exactly_ what happened? What do you have to say for yourself?" Lacie watched as Draco faltered. He took a deep breath but did not reply. This only frustrated Lacie more. "This is not you, Draco."

This provoked a reaction, as Draco glared at her, "But my dear Lacie, this is me, I am simply a villainous _Slytherin_. I pick on Muggleborns because of their inferior blood, and I pick on the unfortunate, and I even pick on Longbottom and he has no brains or parents. This is all me, and it was you too, before you became a do-gooding _Gryffindor_."

"Stop it, stop it now!"

"Or what? You will curse me to oblivion? I am tired of childish games, and pretending that we could overcome bitter House rivalry, Lacie."

"Are you telling me, once and for all, you care nothing for Hermione?"

"I have never, nor will I ever care for Granger," Draco said with a deadpan expression. "You know how I feel about her."

Lacie shook her head and smiled as she looked at the ground. "You can lie to everyone, and yourself but you cannot lie about these things to me… although, you are getting better at it."

"I am not…"

"I know you gave Hermione that mirror."

Draco froze, and Lacie knew that her suspicions were correct.

"You saved her life, you know, if she did not have that mirror she would have looked at the basilisk and died. I know what you said about her, but I know that was a front, so, I am sorry and thank you."

He did not reply, and instead stared at her in a state of shock. Lacie pulled her brother into a hug, and did not care that he was a few inches taller than her and she had not noticed. She felt his shallow breathing on her shoulder.

"I know you are this villainous Slytherin, and you have your reasons for doing what you do, but I still love you CoCo."

His arm moved to pat her on the head as he said so quietly that Lacie had to strain her ears to hear properly, "I love you too, CeCe."

"Draco! Lacerta!"

x-x-x-x-x

Draco was startled at the sound of his father's voice, and jumped away from Lacie as if his sister was a hot rod. He turned to face the looming man and was slightly startled by his appearance. His hair had not been brushed and he seemed to depend on his walking stick. Draco felt his sister freeze beside him at the sight of the man that they recognised as their father, despite the man being a shadow of the man he had been.

"Stop dawdling and follow me, now." Father barked.

"Yes," Draco said, dragging his suitcase along with him. His father was fixated on Lacie, and when Draco turned around he knew why. Lacie had not moved an inch. She glared at their father, an expression that was mirrored in Father's face. Draco continued to walk towards his father and stopped once he was beside him.

"Lacerta, I will not tell you twice."

"I am not going home with you," Lacie said determinedly. Draco watched as people stopped in order to stare at them. He sighed. This incident was going to appear on society pages sooner or later, the Malfoy family were currently a hot topic of debate in the higher echelons of Wizarding society. Lucius laughed at Lacie, his voice piercing through the platform.

"And where would you stay? With that _Hermione Granger_?" Even Draco disliked the derisive tone that was present in his father's voice.

"No, she shall stay with me," a woman appeared from behind a pillar. Narcissa Malfoy looked radiant; her long blonde hair was curled gently at the ends and walked with such grace that even Draco was envious of her. Her appearance was the polar opposite of his father, and Father was in awe of her. Father's previous hard expression had softened at the sight of her. He walked steadily, still painfully relying on his walking stick, towards her.

"Narcissa, my love…"

"Not here, Lucius," his mother said quietly. His father stopped, his posture sagging a little. "I am merely here to collect my children."

"But -…"

"Draco?"

Draco considered it for a moment, knowing that he did not want to separate from his sister. It was clear to see what had happened, his mother had left his father and was taking her children with her. For what reason Draco did not know. She was probably protecting them from the monster of a father the press made him out to be. He looked at his father, who was relying so heavily on what had seemed like a decorative piece to even stand up and knew where his heart lay at that moment. He shook his head at his mother. His father needed him whilst his mother was away, and now that they no longer had a house-elf he needed Draco more than ever.

His mother did not scold him for his decision. She seemed to beam even more brightly that she had, "I understand, my dear. When you wish to join me, you need not ask, just come."

Draco nodded.

His mother turned to Lacie who had turned into a bundle of excitement. "Now, we must go. We have a Portkey to take, and they do not wait for late witches."

"Narcissa!" Father's tone was firmer this time but Mother ignored him.

"Bye, Draco," Lacie said as she walked with their mother away from them. She did not even glance at their father.

"Lacerta," Mother warned.

Lacie cast her a reproachful look before saying rather disparagingly, "Goodbye, Father."

This seemed good enough for their mother and they walked briskly away, leaving them on the platform to a waning crowd, the exchange was most likely quite anticlimactic for them. They had probably hoped for a slanging match between his parents but Narcissa was too refined and his father too proud.

The wishes for summer to arrive suddenly dissipated and Draco wished suddenly to be back on the train back to Hogwarts.

This summer was not going to be fun.

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _That's it folks!_

 _I hope you all enjoyed my AU of CoS with my OC - it's taken several years, I know, but I got there in the end. I'm currently working on the AU of POA, but I probably won't be publishing that one until I have written about half of it. Being the perfectionist that I am, I wrote about 7/8 chapters and then hated them and began rewriting/editing most of it and adding more detail and story and what was the material for 2 chapters is now 4, at about 18k words... Yeah, I am probably my own worst critic (restraining myself from editing Bright Star at the moment is so difficult, but it's so necessary). I also have my Master's dissertation to write over the summer as well as some other assignments. Post-graduate studies is no joke, you guys, so that means I won't be committing a lot of time on FFing until that's over with._

 _I'm having way too much fun writing Dramione stuff, though._

 _If you do want to follow this story onto the third year it will be called_ 'Admonitions to the Wind and Stars' _and will be uploaded soon, but not too soon iygm but definitely later on this year (maybe end of August, I am way too indecisive)._

 _Thanks for reading my story!_

 _CSxo._


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